


The Boy in The Pikachu Pants

by MrsStylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, But Also Pining, Insecure Louis, Liam and Louis Are Brothers, M/M, Rimming, Shy Louis, There's a cat named Pea, adorably obvious flirting, and Jealousy, and a lot of people calling each other idiots, because everybody needs foreplay, because um Louis, but again brief, but only briefly, cute boys being idiots in love, definitely sexual tension, shameless fluff, some smut in there too, vague allusions to greys anatomy, very sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 05:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8433127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsStylinson/pseuds/MrsStylinson
Summary: Louis stars as the bumbling idiot who's only a bumbling idiot around Harry. Harry stars as the charming bastard who steals his heart completely. They meet in the middle of a hallway with Louis in a state of considerable undress, singing Destiny's Child at the top of his lungs. Somehow that seals it for Harry. This is the boy he was always meant to fall in love with. Louis feels the same, only slightly more defeatist. It takes them a while to figure things out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have to pay tribute to the tumblr post that gave me the seed of an idea for this. It's by madabearr (i don't know how to link, my apologies)...and the post goes like this:
> 
> madabearr: HOW COME NOBODY TELLS ME WHEN WE HAVE COMPANY??  
> I JUST WALKED THROUGH MY HOUSE IN A SPORTS BRA SINGING THE OPENING SONG TO THE LION KING AND MY SISTER HAS TWO BOYS OVER.  
> JESUS WHAT HAVE I DONE
> 
> sasstielspn: made a good first impression you cultured sex thing
> 
> madabearr: if anybody’s wondering, i’m now best friends with both of them and they introduce me to people as ‘the one in the bra that i told you about’
> 
>  
> 
> Um, there are some pretty sketchy doctors in this. Half because it adds to the plot and half because the only medical knowledge I have comes from Grey’s Anatomy of which I’ve been watching a lot lately. Forgive me. 
> 
> P.s I have not at all given up on my chaptered fic. I just needed to finish something in the meantime and feel that rush. I compare oneshots to one night stands and chapetered fics to sex with someone you love. One seems slightly more worthwhile than the other but it takes a lot more time and effort. Sometimes (if you're single) you just need the quick fix so this was it for me. Hopefully you like it.
> 
> These are the pants:  
> https://goo.gl/images/cFY6Po

" _Kelly, can you handle this_?"  
  
Louis shakes his hips, smiling fondly at the furry ginger kitten that's curled up like a perfect cinnamon bun atop his windowsill.  
  
" _Michelle, can you handle this_?"  
  
He grabs his hair brush, some fresh pants and slings his towel over one naked shoulder.  
  
" _Beyonce, can you handle this_?"  
  
He grabs the kitten, startling her from her slumber. She peers up at him with slightly bleary eyes and makes a disgruntled noise.  
  
" _I don't think Pea can handle this_."  
  
Pea doesn't look too happy at the prospect of being carried the whole way to the bathroom, especially with Louis singing Destiny's Child at the top of his lungs. Oh well, can't be helped. Louis' older brother is at band practice, his parents are still at work and Louis is sure as hell going to take advantage of being home alone.  
  
First, he will happily engage in a sing-a-long to his favourite girlband in his favourite pikachu pants. Then, a hot shower and a much needed wank. It's been far too long since he had sex with another human being and that just won't do. Twenty one year old boys should not be expected to go without sex for more than two months. Make that two weeks. It's how he thinks he would feel if there were ever a shortage of tea in the UK. Louis shudders to think.  
  
He keeps singing as he makes his way down the hallway with Pea over one shoulder and his towel over the other. He gives Pea a scratch behind the ears to appease her. She rubs her head against his shoulder, purring quietly.  
  
As he walks down the hallway, he can't keep from shaking his arse a bit, knowing it's his best asset. It's something that always attracts attention when he's at a club. Too bad he's been too busy studying to go out much lately. Granted the last time Niall and Zayn accompanied him to a local gay bar, the only thing he picked up was food poisoning. (He knew the chicken tasted funny from the first bite but c’mon, it was chicken! Wrapped in Parma ham! Stuffed with mozzarella! What kind of idiot turns that down?) Suffice to say Louis spent the next fourty eight hours puking his guts up and decidedly _not_ getting fucked out of his brains.  
  
" _I don't think you're ready for this jelly, I don't think you're ready for this jell_ y."  
  
He slaps his own behind just to watch it jiggle, secretly (or not so secretly, according to Zayn) proud of how voluptuous his body looks in tight pants and nothing else. He could probably do without his little pouch of a tummy but he's willing to put up with it just for the sake of his arse.  
  
"I don't think you're ready for this-- _shit!_ "  
  
His voice cuts out after that and then he's just standing there, half naked and horrified. _Cause my body too bootilicious for you babe_ , plays in the background but Louis barely hears it. There's a stranger in his house. A tall, gloomy looking stranger staring at him from the doorway to Liam's room. He's a fucking attractive gloomy stranger but a stranger nonetheless.  
  
"Hello," The Curly Headed Angel says and Louis' distantly aware that he should probably be screaming by now and demanding to know who this perfect specimen is. He's just a little bit preoccupied with the perfect part at the moment. "When Liam told me his younger brother might be home, I can't say I expected to find a cute, shirtless boy dancing around in a pair of pikachu pants."  
  
"Um."  
  
_Eloquent Louis, very eloquent_.  
  
He can't help it though. Now he knows that the curly headed stranger is probably his brother's new musician friend, he feels less relieved than he should and more mortified. Because as much as he'd like to see someone with lips like those and a pair of killer legs, walking around his house 24/7, he would also really like to forget that this whole thing ever happened. That means never seeing Cute Boy with the green eyes and perfect lips ever again.  
  
Wait, did he say 'cute shirtless boy'?!  
  
"I'm Harry. I've been working on a few songs for your brother's band."  
  
He looks confused at the lack of response from Louis, like he might be thinking Louis is some kind of deranged, mute robot. Louis is currently wondering that himself so he can hardly blame the guy. Jesus, he wants to touch those unruly, precious curls. He wants to wind them around his fingers and pull tight as Harry fucks him into the mattress with no mercy.  
  
"Like...writing?"  
  
What a poor attempt at normal human dialogue on his part. Louis’ not usually this inept when it comes to talking to someone new, even if that someone new is very attractive with nice biceps and tight, painted on jeans. But something about Harry with the Green eyes is blocking his brain's neural pathways completely. Maybe it's the sheer size of those hands. They look like they were made for gardening or tightening screws or for giving spectacular hand jobs. Louis is hot under his non-existent collar now.  
  
"Yeah, like writing." Harry smiles at him, obviously amused. "You write yourself?"  
  
"No?" Louis says, a little more defensively than he had first intended.  
  
Maybe it's because he's half naked. Maybe it's because his phone is still playing destiny's child.  
  
"Hold this."  
  
He places Pea in Harry's arms, inwardly cursing himself for sounding a) inappropriately demanding and b) like a complete weirdo. He runs back to his room and stops the music, taking a couple of seconds to sigh dramatically before making his way back to Harry in the hallway. When he sees Harry with Pea, he thinks it must have taken longer than he thought. Harry is nuzzling Pea's nose, in the middle of what looks like a very serious conversation.  
  
"Mm, really? And what did the cute boy say when you told him Kelly was your favourite? He looks like more of a Beyonce fan I think."  
  
Louis tries not to swoon. He loves people who treat their pets like miniature humans. Louis blushes deeply when he realises it's the second time in as much as five minutes that Harry's called him cute. Where did this insanely attractive, sensitive songwriter come from? And why didn't Liam invite him over sooner?  
  
"Isn't Beyonce everyone's favourite?" Louis interrupts gently.  
  
Hearts explode into his eyes at the slightly startled look on Harry's gorgeous face.  
  
"Actually I'm quiet partial to Michelle," he says, dropping Pea at his feet.  
  
Pea looks rather contented for just having been held by a stranger. She's usually a right brat when it comes to new people. Something must be in the water because the moment Harry lets her down, she winds her way around his legs, rubbing up against his shins.  
  
"Michelle?" Louis laughs but Harry just looks back at him with this cute doe eyed expression. "Oh, you're not joking!"  
  
"No. Why should Kelly and Beyonce get more acclaim just because they've been more successful?"  
  
Louis shakes his head, laughing.  
  
"Because that's how it works! Or because Beyonce is Queen. B. And Kelly's more talented than Michelle. They're more popular for a _reason_."  
  
Louis realises that he sounds a bit bratty and probably looks it too, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and one hip cocked. Harry doesn't seem to mind. His eyes float down over the cocked hip and the crossed arms. His mouth flutters, like he's tempted to smile but equally tempted to laugh.  
  
Louis relaxes his stance but it doesn't discourage the staring. Harry's eyes intimately track their way down his half naked body, tracing his curves. They linger on his small, perky nipples. Louis wants to be the kind of self-righteous, self-confident guy that would say "do you mind?" before sashaying off to the bathroom, hips swaying. Usually he would be. Even if he was interested in the guy, he wouldn't show it. Playing hard to get is just about his favourite flirting tactic. He can get most boys so hot just by refusing to let them touch him.  
  
But Harry. Harry with his fucking ship tattoo right over his massive bicep and what looks like a deliciously natural suntan....Harry is different. His eyes drag up and down Louis' body with lazy contentment. It's bold. He doesn't seem to care that he's so completely blatant in his admiration. Louis wants to lick every inch of his body. He wants Harry to grab him by the waist and hold him up against a wall while he kisses him into submission. Sheesh. He definitely needs to cool it.  
  
"I should um. I should. Shower. You know, clean."  
  
Louis mimes scrubbing at his arms, as if the notion of bathing is a foreign concept to someone as delicious as Harry. Delicious Harry, who smells like a mixture of mint toothpaste and fruity shampoo.  
  
"Mmhm," Harry's definitely amused now, his dimples (dimples, for the love of god!) working in his cheeks. "Better get to it then. You never told me your name though?"  
  
"Liam didn't--"  
  
"Liam mentioned he had a brother that was two years younger than him. He didn't mention your name...or your pretty blue eyes," he tacks on with a wink and a cheesy grin.  
  
Louis wants to barf. He will not yield to this shameless flatterer who obviously wants in his pants (Louis wants that too) and nothing more.  
  
"Louis," he gurgles, sounding strangled. "And um, thanks."  
  
"You're um, welcome." Harry's eyes are shining like little emerald globes.  
  
"I'll just be uh--" Louis moves past him, turning around to face him as he backs away towards the bathroom. His back hits the bathroom door with a thump. Dammit. "Well bye."  
  
Harry chuckles, his eyes briefly skating over Louis' naked chest.  
  
"I'll probably still be here when you get out of the shower, you know. I'm waiting for Liam."  
  
"Right. Right. Course. I'll just, um."  
  
He backs into the door for a second time, flushing anew. Harry throws back his head on a loud bark of laughter, exposing a huge attractive Adam's apple.  
  
"Have a nice shower, Louis with the pikachu pants," his tongue dances over his succulent bottom lip. "Have fun getting...clean."  
  
And somehow he manages to make that sound incredibly dirty. Harry disappears into Liam's room, shutting the door behind him with a crooked grin. Louis sets his stuff down in the bathroom, closes the door and turns the water on freezing cold. By god he needs it. It feels like he's burning up. He looks down and sure enough, the bulge in his pants is embarrassingly obvious.  
  
"Fuck."

 

***

 

The next time Louis sees him is at this Amercanised diner that he and the boys frequent in their spare time. Louis is sitting there happily enjoying a huge chocolate milkshake, kicking his feet against the bottom of the booth while he spiritedly debates the best way to teach someone the offside rule.  
  
"That's stupid Lou." Liam maintains. "How could anyone learn through just watching? I think a written explanation would be most apt."  
  
"Oh can it, you eedjit. You think that school is spelled with a k."  
  
"It is spelled with a k!"  
  
Louis gives Zayn a look like "see what I have to deal with?" It's no use. Unfortunately having best friends that are in the same band as your brother guarantees that every time you argue, your friends will throw up their hands and shout "not taking sides". This time Zayn is too busy looking at something over the back of Louis' shoulder.  
  
"Is that Harry?" He cranes his neck. "It is! Liam," Zayn elbows his tosser of a brother. "Call him over."  
  
And the thing is, Liam knows. He knows that Louis completely humiliated himself the first time he met Harry. After Harry left that night, Louis told him the whole story and Liam laughed until he turned red in the face and tears poured down his face. He doesn't know Harry called him cute or that his new best friend was blatantly checking out his little brother... but he knows enough to ruin Louis' life right now, in this moment.  
  
"What? No!" He hisses urgently.  
  
Zayn looks at him like he's on crack. Evidently, he doesn't know the story. Thank _god_.  
  
"Harry!" Liam shouts. He sends a sly smirk in Louis' direction. "Over here!"  
  
Next thing he knows, Harry is sliding into the booth next to him and hooking an arm around the top of the booth, just above his head. His thigh is pressed right up against Louis''. To make matters worse he's wearing some kind of ridiculously bright yellow headscarf which miraculously makes his eyes look even greener and his lips look noticeably pinker. His floral shirt is open to his chest, with a long silver necklace hanging down between his pecs. Plus he's dressed in another pair of shockingly tight jeans. He's Louis' kyrptonite.  
  
"Hi guys! Didn't know you hung out here. I come here to write sometimes."  
  
And that's an image of Harry he didn't need; the image of him madly scribbling away at a journal, a crease between his eyes and a straw between his plump lips. It’s so entirely obscene. Harry is so freaking unfair.  
  
"Yeah we come here all the time. Niall usually joins but he's got a date tonight."  
  
"Good for him," Harry says jovially and they all groan.  
  
"Oh. Not...good for him?" He looks so adorably confused.  
  
Louis wets his lips before speaking.  
  
"Um, we don't really...his girlfriend kind of hates us."  
  
"What? Why?" Harry asks and then ducks his head a bit, looking Louis directly in the eyes.  
  
He mouths " _hello again_ " as if it's a secret that they've met before. Louis likes that. And well...it kind of is a secret. Except just as Louis is about to answer the question, Harry turns to Zayn and says, "this is the boy I told you about. With the pikachu pants."  
  
Louis buries his face in his hands with a groan. Unfortunately he still hears Zayn's gasp, followed by the sound of his laughter.  
  
"Lou is the boy with the pikachu pants? Li's brother? Why didn't you say so?!" Zayn's still cackling. "I'm never going to forget this."  
  
Louis groans again.  
  
"Lou," Harry repeats slowly, almost to himself. "I like that. Louuuu. Rolls of the tongue, doesn't it?"  
  
Louis feels someone hook their ankle around his just as Harry leans in and whispers in his ear. His clean, masculine scent wafts over Louis in hypnotising waves of pleasure.  
  
"I think I'd like the way you'd sound on my tongue." He breathes in Louis' ear then pulls back a little, listening to the noticeable hitch in Louis' breath. "Silly me. I meant... I like the way Lou sounds on my tongue."  
  
He slowly retreats back to his side of the booth, his shin rubbing against Louis' underneath the table. Louis cautiously raises his head. He's sure he looks like a crazy person right now. His eyes feel as wide as gum balls and there's a deep blush spreading over his face. He takes a long sip of his drink to replenish the moisture in his mouth. Harry watches him closely and then steals Louis' straw right out from under him. He starts sucking the ice cream off the end, eyes deceptively innocent. Even as he hollows his cheeks and bats his eyelashes. Louis chokes on his mouthful of milk, spitting some up onto his collar. Ice cream bubbles up and out of his nose. He lurches forward in surprise.  He's distantly aware that this is the least sexy thing he's ever done but he's strong willed and determined to ignore it. Harry hands him a serviette, the beginnings of a smirk framing his sinful mouth. Louis begrudgingly accepts the offering.  
  
"Niall's girlfriend thinks we monopolise his time," Louis explains, hoping that a change in subject will distract from what just happened.  
  
Thankfully Liam is too busy checking out Zayn to notice. Zayn, on the other hand looks like he's struggling not to laugh. Louis knows the only reason he's even holding back is Liam. He knows Louis doesn't want Liam to find out, lest he be angry or worse, tease him mercilessly for the rest of his life.  
  
"Really?" Harry drops the salvia slick straw back into Louis' milkshake. Louis doesn't even bat an eyelid. Forgive him for inviting such bacteria into his drink, there's a cute boy staring into his eyes. "Why is he with her then? He doesn't seem like the type to cave to someone else's whims."  
  
"Well they've been together since they were twelve," Liam chimes in. "It's sort of the only love he knows."  
  
"That's not really love though," Harry says. His foot knocks against Louis'. "If you love someone and they love you, you shouldn't ever need to demand their time."  
  
"Louis had a boyfriend like that once."  Zayn says out of nowhere.  
  
The snide smirk on his face says he knows exactly what he's doing.  
  
"Boyfriend? Really?" Harry looks cheered at the mention of Louis with boys, but then-- "Wait, what boy? Do I know him?"  
  
Louis can't help it. He giggles at the irritated look on Harry's face.  
  
"Why would you know him? Didn't you like just move here?"  
  
"Oh shut up." Harry rolls his eyes.  
  
Louis grins at him. After a moment, Harry caves and grins back. It feels like the start of something.  
  
  
*****  
  
He gets to know Harry in bits and pieces. Bits he hears from Harry himself when he comes over to see Liam and stops by Louis' room for like half an hour every time. He usually lays on the end of Louis' bed while Louis sits all hunched up at the headboard, trying not to think about all the tattoos Harry has that he can't see and how he'd like to trace each and every one of them with his tongue...  
  
"I've a butterfly tattoo on my stomach, did you know?"  
  
Louis silently shakes his head. He does a lot of things silently in Harry's presence. It earns him a lot of strange looks from the boys who usually can't get him to shut him up.  
  
"Wanna see?"  
  
"Um."  
  
As has become the norm with them, Harry doesn't pay any mind to Louis' inability to act like a regular sociable human. He just pulls up his t-shirt and runs a hand over his toned stomach. Painted over his impressive set of his abs is a massive butterfly that looks like something out of a children's colouring book. It's--  
  
"Beautiful," Louis murmurs without thinking.  
  
Then again maybe he should always think less. That is, if it makes Harry flush like an embarrassed school girl every time.  
  
"Thanks. It's like...metaphorical."  
  
Louis' face creases up, all muddled.  Harry laughs at him and rolls over onto his stomach. He crawls up the bed to Louis' hunched form and puts a hand on his stomach.  
  
"I want to meet someone who gives me butterflies in my tummy."  
  
"That's my tummy," Louis exclaims…like an idiot.  
  
_Tomlinson, you are incurably stupid_.  
  
Harry giggles and presses down on it with his hand.  
  
"I know Lou."  
  
And there's Louis' blush again, giving away the game. He loves it when Harry calls him that. He tends to say it in this soft, lilting tone. Like a whispered prayer or magic incantation.  
  
"Have you met him yet?"  
  
Harry spreads his limbs out over Louis like an entitled cat. He rests his chin on Louis’ chest. Harry’s the most touchy feely person he's ever met. Not that Louis minds. It just makes it that much harder for him to form words because Harry is always there, touching him in some small, significant way.  
  
It can be a hand in his hair or a hand on his thigh, a leg hooked around his underneath the table. Sometimes he just grabs Louis’ hand, for no other reason than that he feels like holding it and then he'll play with his fingers for hours. Liam frequently gets pissed off whenever Harry is in one of his touchy feely moods (almost always). " _Get your huge hipster hands off my little brother_ " he'll say, or else he'll just glare at them both until one of them cracks and moves away. Usually it's Louis, at which point Harry pouts at Louis and glares right back at Liam.  
  
"Met who?"  
  
"The boy who gives you butterflies in your tummy."  
  
Harry cups one side of his face, gently squeezing his cheek.  
  
"I dunno, what do you think Lou?"  
  
Louis thinks his tummy is like a greenhouse; butterfly central. He wants to touch Harry's hair so badly it hurts. But Harry strips him back to the most vulnerable version of himself he's ever been and that means his every inclination to act is ignored.  
  
"Um."  
  
Harry looks frustrated but fond.  
  
"You sure do say "um" a lot. You're a bit shy, aren't you Louis Tomlinson?"  
  
_No. You're just inhumanly beautiful and so sweet to me. It makes me a mess._  
  
He doesn't say that. Instead he blushes (how original) and nods, feeling a lot like Ariel from The Little Mermaid. _After_ she lost her voice.  
  
Harry knocks their noses together, sighing softly.  
  
"One day you'll be able to say more than two sentences to me." His eyes are so close and so _green_. "We could talk for hours instead of just minutes."  
  
"Shut up," Louis moans, embarrassed.  
  
"Did you know you're _more_ beautiful when you blush?"  
  
"You're beautiful all the time," Louis says, again without thinking.  
  
Harry's gasp is soft and adoring. He gathers Louis up in a tight hug.  
  
"Are you wearing your pikachu pants right now?"  
  
"Harry!"  
  
"I'm sorry. I just can't stop thinking about them. Are they your favourite pair? They're my favourite pair."  
  
"No kidding," Louis says, with an unintentionally fond roll of his eyes.  
  
And that's how it is for them. Harry sharing pieces of himself with Louis and Louis doing his best to reciprocate wherever possible....  
  
"Tell me something I don't know about you yet."  
  
Harry's lying on Louis' bed, taking up all the space there is with his gigantic limbs. Louis' forced to recline the best he can in his desk chair. It's obnoxious.....and cute. Harry's always obnoxiously cute.  
  
"Like what? What _do_ you know?"  
  
Harry hums, crossing his eyes as he stares intently at Louis' face. Louis giggles.  
  
"What?" Harry grins at him with wide, innocent eyes. "What's so funny?"  
  
"Your face," Louis giggles again and sticks out his tongue.  
  
Harry rolls his eyes.  
  
"Child."  
  
"Tell me, what do you already know?"  
  
"Okay," Harry rubs his hands together like a cheesy TV chef. "I know you have a stupid brother who you'd like to exchange for many adorable sisters."  
  
Louis grins at that, without ever choosing to. Harry's too good at that, too good at saying exactly what Louis wants to hear or whatever is most likely to inspire a smile. Usually both.  
  
"I know you like your tea with a splash of milk and definitely no sugar, which is frankly unnatural but--"

  
"Oh shush Harold, you drink pumpkin spice lattes. You're everything that is wrong with this world."  
  
Harry, of course looks delighted by this turn of events. He loves it when Louis teases him. He gets these concentrated crinkles on this face like he's trying not to show it but his big dopey mouth just wilts under Louis' attention, giving the game away. And the teasing is a sign that Louis is starting to get more comfortable around him. Because he is...slowly. Harry still makes him all kinds of nervous.  
  
"Annnnnd I know you called your cat Pea because you’re a Princess and she’s your Pea."  
  
It's Louis' turn to roll his eyes.  
  
"How many times do we have to have this argument?"  
  
"As many times as it takes for you to admit that you're a precious princess."  
  
Louis gives him his scariest look. Or tries to anyway. Harry goes from staring at him with slightly lifted frog lips to rolling around on his bed, giggling like a loon.  
  
"Don't you have somewhere to be? Like I dunno, my stupid brother's room?"  
  
"Your stupid brother isn't as cute as you," Harry tells him with an overdone wink.  
  
If only Louis' blood vessels would get the message because every time Harry jokingly compliments him, Louis' cheeks warm up instantly. Harry loves the way Louis responds. He's never come right out and said it but he always stares at Louis with this soft, melted look on his face like he can't even believe Louis is real. It doesn’t make Louis any less mortified or any less determined not to react that way.  
  
"What else?" Louis eggs him on, hoping to distract.  
  
"I know that you wear odd socks when you're having a bad day and no socks when it's a good day. You like buttered toast more than just about anything else, but only when the bread is steaming hot and the butter is melted completely. You like most kinds of music, can dance to just about anything with a smile on your face but you have a hatred of epic proportions when it comes to screamo. You like basking in the sun on warm days but you're just as content to lie tucked up in bed on the cold ones. You hate your uni course, you just want to be a teacher already but you're also scared that you need another plan. You think you won't be a good enough teacher which is just ridiculous, might I add, because I watched you teach Pea how to use a human toilet. And Pea's more stubborn and belligerent than any human child!"  
  
"Well that's true." Louis concedes. Harry cracks a grin. "No wait, what? How do you know all that?"  
  
"Watching.” He cocks his head, eyes soft. “ _Listening_. You're not a big talker but you're easy to read."  
  
"I am?" Louis frowns, disappointed.  
  
Harry nudges his arm.  
  
"Hey, stop that. It makes me want to cuddle you."  
  
_So cuddle me_ , Louis thinks. But the thought of Harry actually holding him in his muscled arms is a little overwhelming. If he laid down with Harry, he’d probably do something stupid like ask him if he could suck his cock.  
  
"It's not a bad thing. I like it, actually. You're a challenge. You won't just say what you're thinking, you won't give me the straight forward answers to the things I want to know. I have to look for them on your face. And I don't mind that." He shrugs, grinning like the perfectly charming bastard he is. "I mean it's a pretty face to look at, after all."  
  
"Shut up," Louis moans, banging his head against the desk.  
  
"Hey, careful with that face of yours! It's like-" Harry giggles, gasping for breath. "A hot commodity. A _really_ hot commodity, actually."  
  
Louis wishes he wasn’t so endeared.  
  
***  


He gets to know Harry just as well through pieces he hears from other people. In fact, those are sometimes the most interesting facts about him, because they're not filtered through Harry’s modesty or his tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he spots a cute baby. Or a banana. Plus it's always fun to taunt Harry with the things he learns when he’s not there...  
  
"So a little birdy told me you went through a corkscrew curls phase."  
  
Harry manages to look both humiliated and enraged. Oh and sexy, he looks sexy too. But that's a given when your name is Harry Styles and you walk around in tight _tight_ jeans and barely buttoned shirts.  
  
"Who told you that?" Harry whines, a soft growl building in his throat.  "It was when my hair was shorter, okay? I got a bad haircut! Everyone has had a bad haircut at least once in their life!"  
  
Louis accidentally lets out a loud, slightly squeaky giggle. Fortunately, Harry looks endeared.  
  
"I love it when you laugh." He says, plain and simple. As if that's the kind of intensely admiring thing you say to someone who laughs at your misfortune.  
  
"I love it when I _make_ you laugh." He continues, before Louis even has time to process, let alone respond.  
  
"Sh--shut up," Louis stammers, blushing wildly.  
  
When has he ever been someone who stammers?!  
  
"...you corkscrew cutie," he tacks on, grinning.  
  
Teasing the guy is better than admitting how much he wants to kiss him.  
  
"You're the worst," Harry grumbles.  
  
Judging by the magical Harry-esque sparkle in his eye, it's very clear he doesn't think so.  
  
Harry heads off to see Liam shortly after that but returns no more than half an hour later with a grumpy pout on and a whole lot of snacks in his arms. He dumps them at Louis' feet and then stretches the long, lean lines of his body across the end of Louis' bed.  
  
"What else did Liam tell you?" He moans, shoving his hands into his eyes. “He won’t stop laughing at me.”  
  
He opens one eye at the sound of Louis' badly muffled laughter.  
  
"Oh god, how bad is it? Did he show you the baby pictures my mum sent him?"  
  
"Maybe." Louis smiles softly, thinking of the ones he saved to his phone. "Say, did you ever dress up as a giant Band-Aid on Halloween?"  
  
"Oh my god. No way! She sent him the Halloween pictures?! Why? Why?!" He rolls over and growls into Louis' duvet, a little bit guttural, a lot kittenish. Everything Harry Styles does is undeniably cute and somehow still such a turn on.  "All of them?"  
  
"Yes," Louis giggles, reaching down his bed to roll Harry back over onto his back. "But they were so cute Harry! Don't be embarrassed."  
  
When Harry looks up, his face has an imprint of Louis' duvet on it. He looks so young in this moment, with those shiny eyes and the burgeoning hope moving across his expression. It's maddening. Nobody should be that easy to like.  
  
"You thought they were cute? Really?" There's a tentative grin making small waves at the corners of his lips. "Did Liam show you any other cute pictures of me?"  
  
He slowly leans back with his arm bent at the elbow and his head planted in his palm, the picture of flirtatious arrogance. But is he flirting with Louis because he wants to or is he flirting with Louis because it's basically a natural instinct when it comes to him?  
  
"Yep." This time he presses the back of his wrist to his mouth, trying to stem the laughter before it starts. "He showed me that one of you in ripped cutoffs and those ugly green trainers."  
  
"I was fifteen!" Harry cries out, appalled. "The only fashion sense I had came from my mum's loving advice and my sister's snide comments."  
  
Louis can't help himself. It's too easy.  
  
"Your sister didn't make a snide comment about this?"  
  
He holds up his phone with the picture of fifteen year old Harry as his lock screen.  
  
"You jerk!" Harry shouts and then pauses. "Hang on, my mum only has Liam's number. Why is it on _your_ phone?! Lou-eeee."  
  
"I couldn't help myself. I had Liam send all of them to me.” He chuckles. "Sorry love."  
  
Harry smiles softly at him, his face a little bit shy. _Right_. He's never called Harry love before. Harry squints at the picture on Louis' phone and another lightbulb goes off. A smug grin stretches his cheeks wide.  
  
"It's your lock screen."  
  
Louis blushes (of course) and looks down at his fingers.  
  
"Yeah. So?" He mumbles, trying to shrug it off, but then Harry's hand is on his thigh, squeezing tightly.  
  
"So why is it your lock screen?"  
  
Louis slowly looks up and finds Harry staring at him with fifty shades of intensity. Louis stays mum, his vocal cords unusable.  
  
"Methinks..." Harry pauses, imminent laughter making his cheeks twitch like a bunny's. "That someone has a crush on fifteen year old Harry."  
  
And sixteen year old Harry. And eighteen year old Harry. And _definitely_ twenty three year old Harry.

 

 _Actually, it's all the versions of you that have ever lived and ever will live, because they all amount to the same gorgeous looking, uniquely lovable man, with the incredibly green eyes and even more incredibly generous spirit.  
_  
Now if he could only _say_ all of that _without_ having an aneurysm...  
  
“Think I have a crush on him, do you?” He says instead.  
  
"Mmhmmm," Harry draws it out, sitting up slowly.  
  
He leans in to Louis' space, invasive but bold. His staring is intrusive really, and hungry. Louis is not a piece of meat. But _damn_. The way Harry's eyes catalogue every one of his features is all kinds of hot.  
His eyes fall to Louis' lips as he licks across his own. It might as well be slow motion porn. Harry's long fingers wrap around the side of his neck with purpose. A ghost of a smile flutters across his pillowy looking lips.  
  
"Can I--"  
  
Louis panics and cuts him off at the pass.  
  
"Liam told me you had a cat named Amoeba!"  
  
Harry sighs and leans away, the moment effectively ruined. Louis' heartbeat settles but his spirits drop. What if Harry really had been about to kiss him? What if it didn't end in tears? What if he liked kissing Louis and never wanted to kiss anyone else for the rest of his life? Or, what if pigs flew? What if the world was run by robots? What if Louis didn't blush every time Harry said something even remotely flirtatious? The chances are about the same.  
  
"Yep. Amoeba, the ragdoll. She was very small and kind of like a primitive life form."  
  
Louis raises an eyebrow and Harry chuckles.  
  
"Well...she used to run into walls and stuff. The vet said there was nothing wrong with her but she was always, always running into things or licking the floor instead of her food bowl." At Louis' look of bewilderment, he adds, "Very cute but very frustrating. Eventually I just had to spoon feed her like a baby. Turns out it was a tumour. Very small but absolutely lethal. They said if we kept her alive, it would grow more and she'd only get worse. Said it was a kindness to let her go."  
  
And now Louis is the idiot. The idiot who brought up his friend's dead cat just to serve his own selfish interests.  
  
"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry." He rubs his hands up and down Harry's biceps. It's hard not to notice how small the span of his hands are compared to the span of Harry's guns but he tries. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to upset you."  
  
Harry's face is more resigned, than sad. He smiles at Louis, eyelashes fluttering down towards the ground. Like he doesn't want Louis to see him suffering.  
  
"Shh. You didn't upset me babe."  
  
_Babe! Breathe, idiot. Don't blush._  
  
"Don't stress yourself. It was years ago. We buried him in the backyard…with Corn, the dog and Black, the bird."  
  
Louis' trying so hard not to react but--  
  
"You other pets were...corn...dog," he takes a deep breath, trying not to be a jackass and laugh at Harry's very real suffering. "And black...bird?"  
  
"Yes." Harry nods solemnly. "Blackbird doesn't sing in the dead of night anymore."  
  
At which point Louis can't help it. He laughs. Hard.  
  
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean that! It's not funny! They died! Poor animals."  
  
He tries to put on his best serious face but Harry grins wider than Louis' ever seen him.  
  
"You actually think I would call my pets, corndog and blackbird?"  
  
Oh.  
  
Harry laughs raucously.  
  
"Sorry. It's just, your face--"  
  
Louis cuts in.  
  
"You called your cat amoeba! How was I supposed to know?"  
  
"You called yours Pea! Don't criticise my name choice."  
  
He frowns.  
  
"What's wrong with pea? Pea is cute!"  
  
"You're right." Harry smiles, way too cheekily for Louis' liking. "Pea is cute. Adorable, actually. Just like you."  
  
Louis rolls his eyes, fighting the blush with all of his will power.  
  
"Yeah, well you are not."  
  
Harry's mouth twitches hyperactively.  
  
"That's not what you said five minutes ago."  
  
"You're obnoxious."  
  
"I think you like it," he flashes his teeth at Louis, "I think you like me."  
  
"I think I'm going to sever one of your limbs in a minute."  
  
Harry throws back his head, laughing.  Louis wants to kiss the Adam's Apple in his throat. Or circle it with his tongue and then make his way downwards. One of the two.  
  
"Dark, Tomlinson. I like it. You're really coming out of your shell."  
  
He strokes Louis' cheekbone with the backs of his fingers and then leans in.  
  
"It’s a lovely shell though."  
  
Louis does his best to look unimpressed.  
  
"You could charm a water cooler."  
  
"Oh baby," Harry winks, smiling lasciviously, "I haven't even gotten started."  
  
_Great_. _As if pretending I'm not half in love with you wasn't hard enough already_.  
  
***  
  
Getting carried through the doors of the emergency room by an overly concerned, seriously beautiful man seems like a dream come true…and it is. Or it would have been if the overly concerned, seriously beautiful man wasn't Harry, the guy he's trying so hard _not_ to be head over heels in love with. Not to mention the fact that his antagonistic brother is trailing behind them both, shouting obscenities, fully prepared to tear Harry limb from limb. Or so he claims.  
  
"How could you think this was okay? Harry, he gets light headed on the lift for Christ sake--  
  
"I do not!"  
  
"You do," Liam and Harry both shout, ignoring his pissed off expression completely.  
  
Harry's currently looking around the emergency room, obviously trying to determine the best way to get him looked at straight away. Liam is hot on his trail, his face doing that weird constipated thing that it always does when he's angry.  
  
"You should have known better than to put him on a fucking motorcycle. He had no chance."  
  
"Hey!" Louis perks up again, trying to sit up in Harry's arms.  
  
Harry pushes him down with one hand, still not looking at him. But then neither is his stupid, over protective brother.  
  
"The mistake wasn't putting him on the motorcycle," Harry says.  
  
"Exactly--"  
  
"The mistake was letting him drive."  
  
"Yes. No, wait...what?!" Louis wriggles in his grasp, trying to get down but Harry just holds him tighter.  
  
"Stop that. You'll hurt yourself worse."  
  
He rolls his eyes. What did he do to deserve an idiot for a brother and a fool for a best friend?  
  
Liam looks like he wants to say more but at that moment Harry catches the eye of a tall, dark haired doctor who looks like he's about to call someone else's name.  
  
"Excuse me!"  
  
Tall, Dark and Handsome (really, this guy is _freakishly_ good looking) acknowledges Harry with a slightly impatient nod and then beckons him over.  
  
"What can I help you with sir?"  
  
Harry's face lights up. He tips Louis ever so slightly toward the doctor. As if this guy's a veterinarian and Louis' a wounded pup.  
  
"Can you help him? Please."  
  
"Sir, there's a line. A long line and--"  
  
"If you do not take a look at my brother right now, you'll be hearing from my lawyer. My brother is in _pain_ , he absolutely cannot wait any longer."  
  
"Liam!" Louis hisses. "Don't be such an arse! You don’t even _have_ a lawyer!”  
  
Tall, Dark and Handsome (McDreamy, as Louis will now think of him) lets out an abused sigh.  
  
"Is that true sir? Are you in a lot of pain right now?"  
  
It takes Louis a minute to realise that McDreamy (seriously, he has the dark wavy locks and sparkly blue eyes to match) is talking to him. Maybe he does have a concussion.  
  
"Um, kind of." Both his companions snort. Louis glares at them.  "I think I broke a few things."  
  
"He came off the back of a motorcycle!" Liam says, clearly exasperated. He's very wide eyed. Louis recognises that look as panic. "He hit his head and then passed out!"  
  
"Liam," Louis reaches out to grip his wrist, squeezing. "I didn't pass out because I hit my head. I passed out because the pain of everything else was so intense."

 

Liam looks like he’d probably hit him if he wasn’t so worried about injuring him further.  
  
"In that case--" McDreamy looks slightly frownier now.  "Let's get you looked at right away. I'll just take you through to one of our beds and Doctor Wes will be right with you."  
  
Doctor Wes. That sounds familiar. Louis shrugs it off.  
  
"Thank you." He looks up at Harry, tugging meaningfully on the front of his shirt. "Can I get down now?"  
  
"No!" The two of them are adamant.  
  
Harry sees the pout though. His lips tweak and he leans in close to whisper, "Liam won't beat me up while I'm holding you."  
  
Louis chuckles, wincing when his ribs contract. Harry's face tenses, worry lines appearing around his eyes but Louis smooths them over with his thumb.  
  
"You underestimate the stupidity of my stupid brother."  
  
"I heard that!"  
  
Louis rolls his eyes.  
  
"I meant you to."

 

They walk into a tiny room with a portable bed and Harry carefully places him down on it. The new doctor walks in then.  
  
"Louis, hey!"  
  
If Tall, Dark and Handsome is McDreamy, Doctor Wes is McSteamy. He's got a megawatt smile, big broad shoulders and just the right amount of dark facial hair. He’s much older than Louis but then that’s always been his type. He's stunning, is what he is and Louis hates him the instant he sees him.  
  
Well that's not entirely true....he's hated him for years.  
  
"Wes," he says, through gritted teeth.  "How are you?"  
  
"Better than you, I'm guessing. You're all kinds of purple."  
  
Louis can practically see the tiny dollar signs on his shiny white teeth.  
  
"Hello Liam, how have you been?"  
  
Liam looks up from where he was determinedly glaring at the ground.

  
"Wes?” His face shows surprise, and then anger. He barely tolerated Wes when they were dating, let alone when they broke up. “What the fuck do you think you're doing? You're not putting your hands on him."  
  
"Liam," Louis snaps. "Cool it."  
  
Harry speaks up then, leaning down slightly to cup Louis' shoulder.

  
"What's going on here? Does Lou know you?"  
  
"Louis." Wes ignores Harry and looks at him instead, a sick sense of satisfaction filling his eyes. "Why don't you tell your new boyfriend here all about your old one?"  
  
"Fuck off."  
  
"Louis, there's no need for that," Wes tuts, still grinning.  
  
"You heard him jackass." Liam squeezes his other shoulder.  "You broke his heart. You're not going anywhere near his broken bones."  
  
"I--"  
  
"Hi," Harry waves a hand in Wes' face. "I'm Harry. And you're--Wesley, is it?"  
  
"Wes."  
  
"Great. Nice to meet you Wesley--" Louis turns and buries his giggle in Harry’s hand which is still securely attached to his shoulder. Harry's lips twitch. "Now listen here. I'm not Louis' new boyfriend. Though I'd be lucky to have him. He's bloody gorgeous, inside and out."  
  
Louis chokes on his saliva. A faint huff emanates from Liam’s lips.

  
"Still, I think it's fair to say I'm his best friend. Even though he makes the worst kind of tea and can’t keep his room clean for the life of him and despite the fact that he stupidly convinced me to let him drive my motorcycle…despite the fact that he can be a little shy--"  
  
"Shy?" Wes butts in, laughing mockingly. "Louis' not shy! He's the loudest person I know. He used to talk my friends' ears off about Shakespeare, of all things. He would bore them to tears before I forcibly dragged him away."  
  
"I think you mean I bored them to tears before you went and fucked them all behind my back." Louis says, tone cool. "That revelation kind of dampened my friendships with them."  
  
"They never liked you much anyway," Wes' smile is pointed and sharp. "They thought you had a pretty face but an empty head."  
  
Harry turns to Louis, immediately garnering his attention. When Louis tilts his head toward him, he's surprised to find Harry looking back at him with blatant hurt. His eyes are shining fiercely and he looks close to tears.  
  
"This would be your scoundrel ex-boyfriend then?" He asks, and there's a disturbing tremble to his tone.  
  
"Um, yeah. He's the one."  
  
"Right, get out." Harry tells Wes, his expression gone completely blank. "You're no good here. Get McDreamy back."  
  
Louis reaches for his hand and tries not to react when Harry moves it away.  
  
"You think he looks like McDreamy too?"  
  
Harry doesn't answer him. He continues to stare Wes down with a locked jaw until Wes sighs and turns on his heel.  
  
"I'll get Doctor Rhys."  
  
Louis heaves a sigh of relief. After Wes leaves, he leans into Harry's side.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Harry doesn't respond.  
  
"Liam, can you give us a minute?"  
  
"You almost killed him." Liam growls. "What makes you think you deserve a minute alone with him?"  
  
Louis rolls his eyes.  
  
"He did not almost kill me, idiot. Get out."  
  
Liam begrudgingly removes the hand he had on Louis' shoulder and moves away. He opens the door, the blinds rattling slightly.  
  
"Call me if you need me Lou."  
  
"Get out, you big dufus."  
  
Liam slams the door on his way out.  
  
"You are a horrible brother." Harry says quietly, still not looking at him.  


Louis snorts.  
  
"So is he."  
  
“You know that's not true," he rounds on Louis, finally facing him. "He cares about you more than anyone."  
  
"Even you?" Louis says, reaching out to play with his shirt.  
  
Harry gently pushes his hands away.  
  
"No one cares about you more than I do."  
  
_Fuck_. It's been six months. Six months and they're so co-dependent, they may as well be dating. But they're not. Because Harry is a solid ten and Louis is a six at best. Because Louis is very often a mess of awkward gestures and fumbled sentences when it comes to Harry. And because Liam is Harry's other best friend and if anything were to ever happen, well Liam would very likely kill Harry with his bare hands. Or something less dramatic  
  
"Okay..." Louis' smiling softly, happily, thinking about what to say back.  
  
How can he tell Harry how much he likes him without saying the words "I want to kiss you until I can't feel my lips anymore”?  
  
"But obviously you're not feeling it."  
  
"Excuse me?" Louis is taken aback. "What do you mean?"  
  
"You're not shy, are you? It's just me. Wes wasn't lying about that, was he? You can talk to everybody… _except_ me. I'm the exception. We're best friends but I can't get more than a few sentences out of you before you lose it. So either it's an act or...or you just don't like me. Now which is it?"  
  
Harry looks like he's trying not to show how much this costs him. His face is weirdly red and his eyes are still shiny with tears. It's clear which option he thinks it is. Louis hates himself for hurting him this way.  
  
"Harry--" his throat clogs up and the words won't come out.  
  
How is he supposed to explain this without embarrassing himself completely? He needs time to figure it out. But Harry isn't waiting. He blows the air out of his cheeks and sniffs, trying to blink the tears away. He's not doing a very good job of looking like he doesn't care.  
  
"That's fine," he breathes and it's tremulous. "It's fine. You wanted to get rid of me. I get it. I'll just--"  
  
He starts to walk away but Louis can't have that. He can't lose this beautiful boy before he's even really had a proper chance to know him.  
  
"Wait!" He lurches up off the bed and grabs Harry's arm, crying out in pain.  
  
His legs collapse but Harry turns around just in time and catches him. Louis’ like a rag doll, his whole body gone flaccid. Harry's hand cups the back of his head and it feels nice. Cool. Comforting.  
  
"Harry, don't leave."  
  
"Louis Tomlinson, you're an imbecile."  
  
Louis tries to whack him in the chest. Instead he whimpers and lets his hand fall back.  
  
"You're not supposed to call the patient an imbecile."  
  
Harry looks down at him fondly. _Thank god_. This probably means he won't try to leave again.  
  
"But the patient _is_ an imbecile. A _big_ one. He could have injured himself trying to stop me leaving just now."  
  
Louis winces through the pain. He raises his hand to Harry's creamy looking cheek. It's soft beneath his fingers.  
  
"It would have been worth it."  
  
"You're embarrassing." Harry tells him straight up, but there's humour in his expression. "I can't believe I saved you and brought you here."  
  
"Oh please." Louis' eyelashes flutter tiredly. "I could have walked to emergency myself."  
  
"Baby." Harry smooths his hair back. Louis wants to try to move all of his broken appendages again just to have something else to think about. Something other than the soft look of concern inside those beautiful eyes. "You couldn't even get off the motorcycle without me."  
  
"I'm not shy," Louis bursts out randomly. "You're right. Wes was right. I'm only shy with you."  
  
Harry helps him onto the bed, softly gripping his elbows in order to lower him down.  
  
"Why me though?" He asks, eyebrows tented. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"  
  
"Sometimes."  
  
Harry looks heartbroken. His whole face droops like a wilted rose.  
  
"Have I been--have I been too obvious?"  
  
His voice is deeper, like he's trying to cover for something. Louis is bewildered.  
  
"Obvious about what?"  
  
"How much I--" Harry studies his confused expression intently. "Never mind."  
  
"Harry--"  
  
"How do I make you uncomfortable Lou? Just tell me and I'll stop. I'm so sorry babe. I'm so sorry."  
  
"I don't think you can stop it. It's not your fault. You can’t help it that you're wildly sexy."  
  
Harry literally chokes on his salvia.  
  
"I'm what?" His voice is hoarse. "Did you just say I'm wildly sexy?"  
  
"Well." Louis' face goes bright red and he can feel the pink creeping around to his neck. He tries to cover it with his hand but Harry just peels his fingers away from his face.  "Yes. You are, Styles. You're superhuman. It's distracting. And lethal. And it makes me a shy, stuttering idiot, which I never am and never have been before. _Never_. But then I've never seen someone as superhumanly beautiful as you."  
  
Harry looks gobsmacked. All the veins in his neck keep tensing sporadically and he can't seem to take his eyes off Louis' face for a second.  
  
"You're shy because you're...attracted to me? Is that what you’re saying?"  
  
"You didn't know?" Louis whispers.  "Who wouldn't be attracted to you?"  
  
"You," Harry gasps.  "You're gorgeous. And my best mate's brother. I mean--I didn't think--because you were so quiet--"  
  
"Hey, um Haz…I'm glad you know I think you're hot now and everything, that it soothes your ego or whatever--"  
  
Harry's whole body jerks in surprise. His eyebrows knit together confusedly.  
  
"My ego? Lou, no--"  
  
"But I'm really in a super whole lot of pain right now and I could really use McDreamy's Magic touch."  
  
"You know he's not actually McDreamy right?  
  
"Semantics."  
  
Harry chuckles, his whole face lighting up like sunshine.  
  
"I'll go get him for you."  
  
A couple of minutes later, Harry returns with McDreamy. Louis can see Liam still pacing outside.  
  
"I asked Liam to wait outside." Harry tells him. "He wasn't happy about it but I told him it would just stress you both out if he was in here."  
  
Louis grins softly at him.  
  
"Thanks love."  
  
Harry bats his eyelashes down, smiling just as quietly.  
  
"Mr Tomlinson?"  
  
Louis begrudgingly moves his gaze to McDreamy, who looks a little bashful and awkward. Louis thinks it's because of his blindingly obvious crush on Harry but then--  
  
"I'm sorry about Wes. I didn't know you were his ex. He—he never mentioned your name."  
  
"Wes?" Louis echoes stupidly. "Wes told you about me?"  
  
McDreamy leans in with a pained grimace.  
  
"He told me he screwed you over. Laughed about it actually. But I didn't know you were _the_ guy until he stormed past me, mouthing off about you like he used to. I'm very sorry Mr Tomlinson, you deserve better patient care than that."  


He looks sincerely sorry but Harry huffs like it's all a big show.  
  
"He deserves better _personal_ treatment than that actually."  
  
McDreamy acknowledges him with a short nod and another bashful smile.  
  
"Yes. I'm sorry. You're right. Mr Tomlinson--"  
  
"Louis."  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
Louis smiles at him kindly.  
  
"My name is Louis."  
  
"Oh. Sorry...Louis."  
  
They both share a smile. Harry huffs again, louder this time.  
  
"Are you going to fix him or are you just going to keep smiling at him like some kind of dopey faced idiot?"

 

Bit hypocritical of him really.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
"No, he's right." McDreamy comes closer. "Let's have a look at your injuries, shall we? I don’t want you to be in any more pain, Mr--"  
  
Louis eyes him meaningfully.  
  
"I mean...Louis."  
  
"Good doctor." He winks at him.  
  
Louis can practically hear how hard Harry's rolling his eyes. And he thought _Liam_ was overprotective. He's got nothing on Mr Huffy over here.  
  
"So Mr--Louis, I want you to tell me if this hurts."  
  
He encircles Louis' wrists with his hands and then applies some gentle pressure. Louis gasps in pain and twists in his grip as a shock of pain travels up his right arm.  
  
"Stop! Stop that! You're hurting him. What the hell kind of diagnostic is that?"  
  
Louis pulls himself from McDreamy's grip and twists around to confront Harry.

  
"Harry, do you want to wait outside?"

  
"No." He's adamant.  
  
"Well then shut up and let the good doctor examine me."  
  
"I could do a better job than him," Harry mutters, extra petulant but it's clear he's conceding defeat.  
  
Louis turns back to the doctor.  
  
"I think my right wrist is sprained."  
  
McDreamy smiles at him, a little surprised.  
  
"I think so too. We'll get an X-Ray and I'll prescribe you some pain meds. By the looks of things, your leg is also broken….and I think we should get a head CT just to be safe."  
  
"If you must," He sighs.  
  
McDreamy chuckles.  
  
"You're a stubborn little thing, aren't you?"  
  
He grins.  
  
"What gave you that idea?"  
  
"Alright, that's enough. I think you've spent enough time _connecting_ with the patient. How about that CT, huh?"  
  
Louis gives Harry a baleful look.  
  
"Sorry about that. He's appointed himself my sole protector for the duration of my hospital stay."  
  
"That's quite alright." McDreamy's eyes sparkle brilliantly. "I'm glad someone is looking out for you."  
  
Harry huffs. _Again_.  
  
"Harold, I think you've got a problem with your nostrils." Louis deadpans. "You ought to get that checked out."  
  
His idiot protector grumbles indiscriminately.  
  
"So should I wheel you to CT?" McDreamy looks excited at the prospect of spending more time together.  
  
Harry looks like he'd rather die.  
  
"Yes please." Louis beams at him.  
  
"Rightio."  
  
He sounds like an idiot but his cheeriness is somewhat charming. Arguably more charming than the grump following them down the hall. It's arguable because even though McDreamy is looking at him like he's Meredith Grey, Louis still feels sick with affection for his stony faced, pouring companion.  
When Doctor Rhys (McDreamy isn't so dreamy when he's setting bones) has to set the bone in his leg, it's Harry's hand that he reaches out for. It's Harry's eyes that he looks for, even though Doctor Rhys' eyes remind him of the clearest ocean. When Doctor Rhys takes him to his room and sets up an IV with some pain meds, it's Harry that Louis asks to stay with him until he falls asleep. And Harry does, letting Liam know that he may as well go home and get some rest, that he’ll bring Louis home tomorrow. Liam was a little hesitant to leave them alone together but after a few snarling words from Louis, he finally departed.  
  
When Louis wakes up, Harry is still there but in new clothes with fresh cologne. He must have gone home at some point.  
  
"They kicked me out," he admits when Louis asks him. "I wanted to stay, trust me."  
  
"I do."  
  
Louis' eyes are still bleary with sleep but Harry’s expression looks warm and affectionate.  
  
"McDreamy came to check on you," Harry says brightly, the hard dent in his cheek the only clue as to any animosity he might be feeling underneath. "You were out cold. He said once he gives us the prescription for your pain meds and checks your cast, he'd be happy to let us go home."  
  
"Awesome."  
  
Louis tries not to let on how touched he is. Harry keeps speaking like they're one person. Like this is happening to the two of them instead of just Louis.  
  
"Liam called me too." Harry looks pained.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And he told me that if you ever get hurt in my presence again, I’m done writing for the band."  
  
"That's ridiculous!" Louis shouts, already worked up. "It wasn't your fault I fell off!"  
  
"I know that," Harry grins, wide and playful. "Your stupid brother doesn't."  
  
"Hmm..." Louis smirks. "In that case, I'll just have to go skydiving on my own."  
  
Harry looks horrified.  
  
"Lou, you are not going skydiving!" He studies Louis’ expression. “…Are you? Lou, tell me that’s a joke?!”  
  
Louis peals with laughter. As it turns out, _not_ being shy around Harry is a lot more fun.  
  
***  
  
"I don't get it. I just don't get it."  
  
Louis raises an unimpressed eyebrow at his friend.  
  
"It's been two months," Zayn half laughs, half sighs. "Two months of him following you around like a little puppy, making sure you're never in pain and that if you are, he's right there by your side, waiting to take care of you. Two months of him practically falling over every time he sees you, even when you're unwashed, unshaven and dressed in your ugliest joggers and that ripped tank I _so_ despise. He is _always_ at your place and it's not to write material with Liam because God knows those two are always at each other's throats over something to do with you."  
  
"Your point?" Louis takes another swig from his beer and goes back to watching ManU failing miserably at defence.  
  
"My point..." Zayn huffs exasperatedly. "My point is that you told him you think he's sexy, he _obviously_ thinks you're sexy--"  
  
"Oh please."  
  
"--so why are you not having sex?!"  
  
Louis clicks his tongue, annoyed.  
  
"Because." He turns to Zayn. "Harry doesn't do all those nice things because he wants to be with me, he does them because he's Harry. So even if what you're saying is true, even if he _is_ attracted to the way I slurp my soup and drip toothpaste on my shirt--  
  
"I never said that..."  
  
"--it doesn't matter because I. Want. More. I like him, Zayn. Like--really, really like him. I want his curly haired babies and the stupid candy ring he'd give me just because he's moronic."  
  
"You love him." Zayn says with a stupid smile on his gorgeous face.  


"I love--being with him." Louis settles for, ever so cautious as to not say what he's really thinking.  
  
"You're an idiot. Why don't you just tell him how you feel?"  
  
"How about because I'm not prepared to humiliate myself like that? How about because I don't want to lose my best friend?"  
  
"Well, you wouldn't and, you won't. But what if you could say it, without actually saying it?"  
  
Zayn looks smug which is always dangerous. Louis cocks his head to the side curiously.  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Flirting. You show him that you want him and he confesses to wanting you too.”  
  
" _If,_ " Louis tries to correct. “If he wants me.”  
  
"When he tells you he wants you, you tell him that you want his curly haired babies and then the two of you live happily ever after. And then I don't have to deal with Liam's conspiracy theories anymore."

 

Louis laughs.  
  
"His conspiracy theories? I didn't know Liam was smart enough to come up with one conspiracy theory, let alone multiple."  
  
Zayn smacks his thigh hard.  
  
"Ow. What's your problem?"  
  
"Stop bitching about Liam. He's a good brother. Intuitive. Sort of. He knows there's something going on between you and Harry. He's just not sure what. He thinks maybe Harry's lonely. He thinks that you’re one of his only friends outside the band and that maybe that's why you spend so much time together."  
  
Louis snorts.  
  
"Has he met Harry? He’s a freaking social butterfly."  
  
"Yep. You know it wouldn't surprise me if he started dating again soon..."  
  
Louis tears his eyes away from the mess on the screen.  
  
"Why? Did he say he was looking? Does he seem interested in someone? Did he write them a song? Is he in love?"  
  
"Cool it Sherlock." Zayn looks so self-satisfied, the smug bastard. "He hasn't met anyone yet. I'm just saying that a man can only wait so long."  
  
"What? So now I'm just a waste of time. Not worth waiting for, am I Malik?"

  
"Oh shut it.” Zayn rolls his eyes. “You're impossible, really. I'm just saying…Harry is a great guy and great guys like that don't stay single forever."  
  
"I know that," he mutters defensively.  
  
"So why aren't you doing anything about it? I'm telling you he would be with you in a _second_ if he knew how you felt."  
  
"He should know! It's so obvious."  
  
"To most of us, yes. But in his defence, when he flirts with you…when he tells you you're gorgeous or  that he loves the way your hair falls in your eyes, what do you do?"  
  
"I freak out.”  
  
Zayn slaps the back of his hand across Louis' shoulder.  
  
"Exactly. You look like a deer caught in headlights. It doesn't exactly scream "take me now.""  
  
"But I told him--"  
  
"That you get shy because he's sexy, sure but it doesn't explain why every time he's being genuinely affectionate with you, you stand there like a brain dead idiot."  
  
He wants to take offence to that. He wants to say it's not true but he's pretty much resigned at this point.  
  
"You're saying my only option is to flirt with him?"  
  
Zayn nudges him, grinning softly.  
  
"Well you _could_ just tell him how you feel..."  
  
"Oh fuck off.” He sighs, defeated. “Guess we're going out tonight then…to celebrate my cast coming off."  
  
"You mean, so you have a chance to show off your arse in your new skinnies and try out the flirting?"  
  
"Fuck off."  
  
Zayn smirks.  
  
"I'm right though, aren't I?"  
  
"Nobody likes a know it all Zayn."  
  
***  
  
Harry tosses his phone onto his bed and casually tousles his fringe with his hand.  
  
"Guess we're going out to celebrate Louis getting his cast off."  
  
"Sick." Niall grins at him. "Can't wait to see the boys."  
  
"You saw them yesterday."  
  
Niall briefly looks up from his tablet. He's watching some golf tournament with intense focus. Harry can't understand it. Playing golf? Maybe. But watching it? He'd rather die.  
  
"And?"  
  
Harry smiles even as he rolls his eyes. Niall is like one of those big, slobbery dogs that don't realise how big and stupid they are. They just keep bowling you over and licking your face until you give in and laugh. Granted, Niall doesn't lick people’s faces but his commitment to the band and their friendship is incomparable to anyone else's.  
  
"Never mind. I thought you should know I've decided what to do about Louis."  
  
After much tossing and turning, mind you but Niall doesn't have to know that.  
  
"Great." He doesn't look up from his tablet. "You're going to tell him you're in love with him then."  
  
"No," Harry says slowly. "I'm going to hook up with someone else. To get over him."  
  
"What?!" Now Niall is _definitely_ looking at him. "That's moronic. He told you he thinks you're hot and your response to that is to have sex with someone else? Are you completely mad?"  
  
"No. If he had feelings for me, why wouldn't he have said so? He told me he's attracted to me, it’s not that much of a stretch to tell me he has feelings for me too. It doesn't make any sense. Clearly he doesn't have any feelings so just leave it alone, would you?"  
  
"You know what?" Niall says idly, eyes refocused on the screen.  
  
Harry sighs.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I hope Louis hooks up with someone too."  
  
Harry throws a pillow at his face.  
  
***  
  
"Okay so the bottom looks good..."  
  
"Yeah it does." Zayn winks at him.  
  
"Gross. As I was saying, the jeans are fine but I don't know what to wear on top!"  
  
Zayn resumes applying copious amounts of gel to his hair.  
  
"You look great in everything Lou."  
  
Louis taps his fingers against his arm, impatient.  
  
"Shut up. I do not."  
  
"You're right. I don’t think you look great in everything."  
  
"Jerk.”  
  
"...but Harry thinks you do."  
  
"Yeah, so you keep saying…but Harry hasn't made a move." Louis whines. "Clearly I'm doing _something_ wrong. I need something he hasn't seen me in before. Can I borrow something of yours?"  
  
Zayn turns to him with hair like Cameron Diaz out of There’s Something about Mary. He looks ridiculous. And annoyed.  
  
"Do I look like I have time to help you?  If Liam sees me like this..." He trails off uncertainly.  
  
"If Liam sees you like this, what?" Louis asked, confused. Then it hits him. "Oh my god. Zayn Malik! Do you have a crush on my brother?!"  
  
"Well," Zayn's lips twitch. "He has a crush on me too."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"We kissed the other night. It was like…wow. And I'd like it to happen again."  
  
"Ugh. The mental image," Louis rubs at his temples. "Can we just pretend this never happened?"  
  
"Okay," Zayn shrugs. "But I'm planning on taking him back to my place tonight, just so you know. That means you can bring Harry here. Your parents are away all weekend right?"  
  
"Right." Louis' lips curl up in a contented smile. "Right you are, Zayn Malik. But that makes it all the more important that I stop thinking about you with my brother and start thinking about how to make Harry fall at my feet."  
  
"Just wear a tank."  
  
Louis stamps his feet.  
  
"Harry's seen me in a tank, he's not impressed!"  
  
Zayn barks with laughter.  
  
"Oh please. If you think that, you’re an idiot. It's disgusting how he looks at you. It makes me feel ill."  
  
"Really?" Louis' cheeks twitch as he tries to hide a smile.  
  
" _Really_. So wear a tank. Not the holey one that you always wear, the _nice_ black one that you never wear."  
  
"I never wear it because it's too tight."  
  
Zayn grins.  
  
"Exactly. Too tight is _good_. Plus it makes your skin looks tan. Harry will love it. I'll even do your hair for you, _if_ you promise not to make a big deal about me and Liam."  
  
He moans.  
  
"Fine. I promise. Now make me look drop dead gorgeous."  
  
***  


Louis opens the door to his house and Harry's mouth is an instant desert. Louis’ tan and glistening, soft but sexy. He's temptation defined, all wrapped up in a gorgeous 5 foot 9 (5) package. He’s wearing a _tight_ tank top and even tighter jeans.  
  
"Um hi,” Harry croaks.  
  
Louis flicks his eyelashes up at him. The only hint that he might be nervous is the way he tangles his fingers in the ends of his shirt.  
  
"Hey Haz."  
  
God he's pretty. He's _always_ pretty, but this is particularly painful. It hurts not to touch him.  
  
"You look gorgeous Lou."  
  
Louis' cheeks heat beneath his praise, as usual. He beckons Harry inside, smiling softly. Zayn is standing off to the side, whispering with Liam. Niall is lounging on the couch. Liam ends his conversation with Zayn as soon as Harry and Louis walk into the living area.  
  
"Hey Harry. How are you?" Liam asks him.  
  
Harry is about to reply but Liam cuts him off.  
  
"That's great. I love you mate but I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop ogling my brother."  
  
"I--I wasn't--"  
  
"Besides..." Zayn smirks. "Gorgeous Harry? Really? I think the word you're looking for is _smoking_."  
  
Louis giggles.  
  
"You were talking to Liam! How did you even hear that?"  
  
Niall laughs at his obvious discomfort.  
  
"Oh c'mon Harry, people could hear the sound of you choking on your tongue from a mile away. And Zayn's right…Lou, you look great."  
  
Louis smiles sweetly.  
  
"Thank you Nialler."  
  
Harry sighs in defeat. They're all right anyway. Admitting how perfect Louis is doesn't mean he has to give in to temptation. He turns to Louis. Carefully, he guides a stray strand of hair away from his stunning blue eyes.  
  
"They're right. You look phenomenal. Smoking hot, Lou."  
  
Liam grunts but they both ignore him. Louis places a hand in the middle of his chest. He feels across Harry's pecs like its only natural. Like they always touch like this.  
  
"Thanks love."  
  
His eyes look like sparkling jewels but they only sparkle for Harry. He can't breathe when Louis' looking at him like that. When Louis smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, it is the single most beautiful thing Harry's ever seen. He traces his way up to Harry's neck, smiling softly. He seems different to usual. More confident, maybe? Less afraid of the consequences of losing himself in the moment. It is intensely attractive. He's not just the boy in the pikachu pants anymore. He's not just Liam's little brother. He's the most stunning creature Harry's ever seen in his life. Harry’s so in love with him, it hurts.  
  
"We should go." Harry coughs, trying to clear his head. "Are you ready?"  
  
Louis looks a little discouraged. His smile disappears momentarily. Then he shares a look with Zayn and it’s back, knocking Harry dead all over again. He's so screwed. And not in a good way.  
  
***  
  
"Dance with me," Louis pleads, grabbing both his hands and attempting to drag him forward. "I love this song."  
  
He's killing Harry, physically killing him with how adorable he's being tonight. He seated himself in Harry's lap within the first two minutes of getting here, pulling Harry's arms around him and interlocking their fingers across his waist. It felt so good to hold him like that, Louis small inside his arms. Even when Liam stalked off in an angry huff, Zayn following after, it was worth it…but it's so out of character for Louis. Harry didn't and still doesn't know what to do with it. He doesn’t know how to resist.  
  
It didn't end there either. Louis was determined to pay for each and every one of his drinks which Harry fought him over until it became clear that Louis was drinking half of them anyway. And Tipsy Louis was something he was even more unprepared for. Louis’ clearly a very happy drunk. He giggles more and looks endearingly bright eyed, teasing Harry relentlessly, the way he secretly loves.  
  
"But I'm a terrible dancer Lou."  
  
Louis pouts his bottom lip and looks up at him from beneath layers of enviable lashes.  
  
"Please," he murmurs; a deadly incantation.  
  
Harry is so weak for this boy.  
  
"Fine." He rolls his eyes and let's Louis drag him out to the dance floor.  
  
There's a strobe light flashing across their bodies, illuminating patches of the honeyed skin in front of Harry. It makes him a bit crazy. He stumbles after Louis, latching onto his waist from behind. Louis throws his head back and smiles at him, sultry and sweet. The bass is thumping around them but they may as well be in their own little universe for all Harry cares. All he can see is Louis.  
  
Louis throws a flirtatious wink over his shoulder and then starts swaying his hips. He knows how to move them too. So much so that Harry is hypnotised by their motions, unable to tear his eyes away. That is until Louis starts running his hands up the length of his body, drawing attention to the nape of his neck and the little hairs stuck to it with sweat. It's surprisingly attractive. As is the way he tangles his hands in the back of his hair, drawing his hips in a tight circle at the same time. Harry bites down hard on his lip, wondering how much more of this he can handle.  
  
The song changes then and Louis' demeanour changes too. He drops his arms and takes a step back, lining himself up with Harry's body. The song is softer and more romantic. Louis tilts his head back on Harry's chest. His eyes are soft and hazy, his whole body pliant.  
  
"Dance with me," he hums, eyelashes fluttering.  
  
"I was," Harry croaks, aching to lean down and just press his lips against Louis' soft ones, to kiss his neck and mouth along the juncture in his shoulder.  
  
  
"No," he protests. He grabs Harry's arms and winds them around his body tightly. "Dance with me properly."  
  
Harry lets his eyes fall shut in defeat. He loses himself in the way Louis smells, sweet and spicy, in the way his breath sounds, soft and rhythmic. He holds Louis tighter, resting his head in the dip of his shoulder. The warmth, the feel of his skin... it's intoxicating. The moment is perfect. And then Louis starts to move again. Little grinds of his hips right up against Harry's groin, pressing back against him every time. The heat inside Harry's body escalates, his breath quickening. He can hear Louis letting out little gasps too. It's only natural for Harry to rock into him, deepening their contact and setting all of his nerve endings on fire all at once. His body reacts accordingly, all of the blood in his body rushing downwards.  
  
"Louis," Harry gasps, pushing away from him.  
  
When Louis turns around, Harry drops his head.  
  
"I'm sorry. I think I need--I need a bathroom break."  
  
He peeks up at Louis and then wishes he hadn't. Louis' cheeks are pink with shame. He's still breathing heavily but his eyes are lost, defeated. He doesn't understand and Harry has no way of explaining without saying "I'm in love with you."  
  
"You'll come back?" His voice is small.  
  
"I--" Harry catches himself.  
  
He can't do this again. He can't be this close to Louis right now.  
  
"Right." Louis' breath catches. "Got it."  
  
He turns away. Harry watches him for a moment, watches the way he holds himself at the elbows, head tilted down. It pains him. But Louis is not in love with him, Louis doesn't feel half the hurt he does. So he sighs and makes his way through the crowd to the toilets. He kicks open a cubicle and slams the door shut behind himself. He feels terrible but he's still hard. He has to do something about it. He angrily rips his zip open, shoving both his jeans and his pants to his ankles. Getting a hand around himself feels amazing. He sighs and starts to jerk himself, a quiet clicking noise emanating from the cubicle. But it's not enough. It's not enough to make him come.  
  
So he closes his eyes. He closes his eyes and let's Louis invade his brain. Louis' skin. His arse. The way he smiles when he's completely surprised by something Harry says. The feel of his body against Harry's. The muscle memory kicks in and it's almost like Louis is there in the cubicle with him, pressed up against him, circling his hips.  
  
"Fuck," he curses softly. "Louis."  
  
He comes with Louis' name on his lips. It's satisfying and not nearly enough at the same time. He punches the door again before he leaves. He washes his hands at the basin and then exits the bathroom. He looks around the dance floor, desperately searching for Louis, hoping it isn't too late to apologise and make up some lie about not having had sex for months. Not that he would be lying about that. He hasn't had sex since before he met Louis. He just doesn't want Louis to figure out why. He doesn't want to drive Louis any further away than he already has.  
  
"Looking for someone?"  
  
Someone with a firm grip grasps his shoulder. The owner of that firm grip appears in front of him with a winning smile. He's ridiculously handsome...and everything that Louis isn't. Tall, blonde and pale skinned like Harry. He's over confident and not nearly as attractive because of it. Harry smiles and cocks his hip anyway because before everything went to shit, he had a plan for tonight. That plan was to hook up with someone else.  
  
"Wanna dance?" He asks, completely lifeless.  
  
This guy doesn't seem to notice. He nods and pulls Harry into him, immediately grinding their hips together. Harry focuses on the sensation and not the person. He tries to convince himself that he can be satisfied with just this. He tries to pretend that he can be satisfied with one night stands; that he can be satisfied sleeping with people he's not at all in love with. It takes only about ten minutes for him to realise that he can't. He can't be satisfied with that. He needs to find Louis. He needs to stop being such a chicken shit before it's too late.  
  
***  
  
"It's too late," Niall tells him, clearly pissed off. "He left with some guy."  
  
Harry shakes him.  
  
“He left? Really? With some guy? What guy?!"  
  
Niall pushes his hands away and grabs his drink, taking a very long sip before answering.  
  
"I dunno. Some guy."  
  
"Niall," Harry pleads, aching inside. "What did he look like?"  
  
"I dunno, he was tall, dark wavy hair--"  
  
"Smile like a great white shark?"  
  
Niall looks at him like he's crazy but nods.  
  
"Um yeah?"  
  
" _Shit_. Did they dance together? Did they kiss? Did Louis look into it?"  
  
"They talked for a bit and then Louis whispered something in his ear and the guy followed him out. Look H, I'm sorry but I think you need to let it go. Especially since you're the reason he was crying in the first place--"  
  
Harry stops pacing.  
  
"What? He was crying?"  
  
"Yeah. After you left him alone on the dance floor, yes I saw that you idiot, he went to get a drink by himself. He came over to talk to me for a bit and then he just stopped dead. His eyes starting welling up and he backed away from me, not speaking. When I turned around, I saw you dancing up on some blonde guy.”  
  
" _Shit_."  
  
"Exactly. I think he was planning on going home after that but then he bumped into that other guy. They left together Harry. This is for real. He had feelings for you, I'm telling you. You should have seen the look on his face when he saw you with that other guy. He was absolutely shattered."  
  
"Had?" Harry echoes, feeling lost.  
  
"I think it's too late now. You screwed up."  
  
"I screwed up," Harry echoes, and it feels like something's lodged in his throat. "And now McDreamy's the one taking him home."  
  
"McDreamy?"  
  
Harry doesn't answer him. He just stands there, staring dazedly at the bar, wondering what kind of asshole makes the boy he's in love with cry. Him, obviously. Louis' the boy in the pikachu pants. He's the one. Harry knows it but he screwed them both tonight. A moment later, Niall grips him by the shoulders and shakes him, just as he had done to Niall a few minutes earlier.  
  
"Okay, enough. I was wrong. I can’t stare at your sad little face anymore. It's not too late. Not if you go _now_."  
  
"They met in the ER," Harry blurts out desperately. "The guy’s a doctor. He's kind and handsome and _way_ too charming. How can I compete with that?"  
  
Niall shakes him again.  
  
"You are all of those things Harry." He pauses, face wrinkled. "Well…except a doctor."  
  
Harry rolls his eyes.  
  
"Right, not the point. Pep talk time. Harry, you don't have to compete with McDreamy or whatever his name is. Because Louis is in love with _you_. You hurt him tonight, I'm sure but if you just admit that you're a giant butthole, I'm sure he'll forgive you."  
  
"A giant butthole? Really Ni?"  
  
Niall chuckles and pushes him away.  
  
"Just go. Now. Before the good doctor screws your boy."  
  
"Ugh." Harry grimaces. "Did you have to say that?"  
  
Niall just rolls his eyes and pushes him in the direction of the door. Harry takes that as his cue to run like hell, and run like hell he does. For twenty blocks. Until he reaches Louis' house. The house he wants to live in with Louis when they’re older. The house with the ageing steps and the moss coloured greenery growing over the windows. It’s the place they met. It's so familiar to him now but it's never looked more daunting. He raps on the door.  
  
***  
  
Louis doesn't turn back around after Harry walks away. He sniffles quietly as he makes his way up to the bar, trying not to let this turn into a full blown crying session. He's better than that. He's better than Harry Edward Styles, the man who obviously doesn't want him and never did.  
  
"Vodka orange, please." The bartender raises an eyebrow at his weepy eyes. "Okay, forget the orange."  
  
The guy nods and pours him two shot glasses.  
  
"They’re on the house. You look like you could use it."  
  
Louis just sighs and throws them both back in quick succession. When he turns around, he spots Niall chatting up a tall brunette in the corner. He walks over there, hovering awkwardly. Thankfully Niall spots him after a minute or so. His eyes turn woeful. He smiles at Louis, obviously pitying him and then turns back to the girl.  
  
"I'm so sorry but can we continue this at a later date?"  
  
The girl stalks off without a word. Louis winces.  
  
"Sorry mate. Did I mention how happy I am that you broke up with Brooke?"  
  
"It's okay," Niall grabs him by the elbow, squeezing gently. "Now tell me you're not crying just because Harold's being a tool."  
  
"I'm not crying," Louis says, smiling blandly. "Harry is a tool though."  
  
Niall chuckles.  
  
"Yep. He doesn't mean to be such a jerk but the man's got rocks in his brain."  
  
Louis doesn't laugh. He doesn't respond. His whole world stops for a moment as his eyes fall on something over Niall’s shoulder. Harry dancing with another guy. A guy that looks to be everything Louis will never be; tall, blonde and buff. Harry seems to be having a hell of a time with him. There’s even less space between them than there was between Harry and himself minutes earlier. Obviously this is why Harry couldn't see things through with him. Because Louis is not what he wants. Not in the slightest.  
  
Louis backs away from Niall with more tears welling up in his eyes and a sick feeling in his stomach. Niall calls out to him, his expression worried but Louis hardly hears him. The man he loves is going to have sex with some other guy tonight and Louis can't stick around to watch it happen. He's too hurt right now. He stumbles towards the exit, feeling drunker than before. Then he smacks into something solid.  
  
The something solid happens to be a person who steadies him by the bicep and looks him over with gentle concern.  
  
"Louis?"  
  
Louis' senses are suddenly heightened. He recognises that voice, and those shockingly blue eyes.  
  
"McDreamy?" McDreamy's face creases confusedly. "I mean...Doctor Rhys."  
  
"Call me Rhys," McDreamy corrects him, smiling gently. "Louis, it's good to see you again."  
  
Louis struggles to speak through his own turbulent emotions, threatening to overcome him at any moment.  
  
"You too." He smiles but he knows it doesn't reach his eyes.  
  
Rhys gently cups his elbow and steers him clear of the doorway.  
  
"Louis, are you alright? You look..." He trails off, eyebrows tented.  
  
Louis laughs. It's wet sounding.  
  
"I look like a mess right? Well...I kind of am right now."  
  
McDreamy (Rhys) yanks him forward into a furious hug.  
  
"Isn't this against your code?" Louis asks, feeling like an idiot as soon as the words are out of his mouth.  
  
He needs to be held right now. Why is he trying to ruin it? Luckily, Rhys just chuckles and releases him with a fond little grin.  
  
"No, not exactly. You're not my patient any more. You're just the cute boy I ran into at the bar."  
  
Louis grins at that, very flattered. It's McDreamy after all.  
  
"Literally."  
  
"Literally," Rhys agrees, grin widening even further, if that's possible.  
  
His smile weakens when he watches Louis wipe the bottoms of his eyes. He ducks to meet Louis' eye line.  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"Not really," he sighs, shaking his head. "I just want to go home."  
  
Rhys is sincerely innocent when he says, "I could walk you?"  
  
Louis doesn't know what possesses him to lay a hand over Rhys' hip and press up onto the tips of his toes.  
  
"Maybe you could stay over," he whispers, feeling a slight twinge of regret somewhere in the vicinity of his chest.  
  
He ignores it. Maybe he's just getting back to the person he used to be before he met Harry. The one who had no trouble flirting with boys and getting laid. The person that had never been in love with anyone worthwhile.  
  
Rhys doesn't say anything but his Adam's apple jumps excitedly. He grabs holds of Louis' hand, gently interlocking their fingers and leads Louis from the venue, winding his way through the carpark to get to the main street.  
  
"I don't live far," Louis lies, not exactly sure why he feels it's necessary. "A couple of blocks at most."  
  
They start walking in the direction of his house and Rhys' hand is warm around his. He talks to Louis the whole way, quietly telling him about his most interesting cases from the ER and explaining exactly what his job involves. Louis' interested, he is but he finds the most he can give right now is a noncommittal hum. His head is too full. His heart is too broken.  
  
When they reach the house, Rhys walks him up to the door and grabs both of his hands.  
  
"Before we go in, I just wanted to say that I'm glad I ran into you. Literally." He chuckles. "And if it's alright with you, I'd like to kiss you goodnight on your doorstep. Like a proper date."  
  
"And then?" Louis prompts.  
  
Rhys grins affectionately.  
  
"And then you invite me inside for a nightcap."  
  
"Right," Louis smiles wanly. "Well I guess you've got to kiss me first."  
  
Rhys gently takes hold of his waist, an intense look about his face. As he presses his mouth to Louis', his hands move from Louis' hips to his cheeks. He traces them softly as he kisses Louis, dipping his tongue in and out of his mouth. It's a fine kiss. Better than most actually. If this was six months ago, Louis would probably already be falling over himself to suck McDreamy's dick. But. It isn't six months ago. Louis' not the same person he was and regardless of whether Harry wants him or not, something about kissing Rhys is deeply unsatisfying.  
  
"I'm sorry," he breaks away, a little breathless. His hands are pushed up against Rhys' chest. "I can't invite you in."  
  
Rhys frowns a little. It's barely perceptible.  
  
"You can't invite me in now? Or… you can't invite me in ever?"  
  
Louis knows what he's asking and the answer is, while simple, also uniquely painful.  
  
"I'm in love with somebody else."  
  
Rhys curses under his breath and then looks up at Louis with intense, broody eyes.  
  
"The jealous one?" He says. "The one I met in the ER? The one who couldn't shut up?"  
  
Louis laughs, ashamed at how hopeless it sounds.  
  
"That's him, yes."  
  
Rhys swallows.  
  
"You're gorgeous. He's a lucky man."  
  
Louis' eyes water.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
They kiss goodbye (on the cheek) and Louis lets himself inside. Once in, he throws his stupidly tight tank in the laundry basket along with his stupidly tight jeans. He slips into his Pikachu pants instead and a soft grey t-shirt. He grabs some Ben and Jerry's from the freezer and settles down on the couch with a sigh. He prays no one interrupts him tonight. He's earned this pity party fair and square.  
  
***  
  
It can't be more than twenty minutes later that someone knocks on the door, loud and unrelenting.  
  
"Just a minute," Louis calls out, pressing pause on the DVR.  
  
He doesn't bother with trousers. If whoever's on the other side of the door can't handle him at his worst then they certainly don't deserve him at his best. Or something. The person keeps knocking, more incessantly now, as if they're trying to pierce his eardrums with the sound.  
  
"Just a minute!" He shouts, even though he's two steps away from the door.  
  
"Louis... _please_."  
  
That stops him dead. It's Harry's voice; weak and croaky, like Louis' never heard it before. It gives him pause. Harry sounds broken but is he broken because he regrets what happened with that other guy….or because he regrets hurting Louis? Is he broken because he went home with someone else and then realised he was in love with Louis or is he broken only because he realised Louis is hopelessly in love with him?  
  
Louis opens the door and Harry looks wrecked. His eyes are red around the corners, his face pale. He looks destroyed when he sees Louis standing there in his Pikachu pants, just like the first time they met.  
  
"He's here then?" Harry swallows noisily. "With you?"  
  
Louis cocks his head, confused. He's already forgotten about Rhys.  
  
"Who?"  
  
Harry looks pained.  
  
"You don't have to--" he cuts himself off, shaking his head. "Please don't sleep with him tonight, Lou. Don't make love to him. I know I have no right to ask but--please. Please Lou. Don't do this."  
  
Then it dawns on Louis. His expression hardens.  
  
"You mean McDreamy? You don't want him to touch me?"  
  
Harry grimaces.  
  
"Hate it when you call him that."  
  
Louis doesn't apologise. Harry is the one who walked away from him tonight. Harry is the one who traded him off for some other hotter guy.  
  
"He kissed me," Louis admits, face blank. "He wanted to come up."  
  
Harry looks cautiously hopeful. He leans in closer, trying to see past Louis. Louis does his best to body block him.  
  
"Harry, there's no one else here." Louis whispers and Harry lets his breath go. He hangs his head, the muscles in his neck slackening. "But I don't see why that should be any of your concern. Especially when it looked to me like you were all set to go home with Blondie."  
  
"Lou," Harry cups his cheeks, squeezing. He bows his head, bracing it against Louis'. "Lou, fuck...you have no idea how much it hurt me to know you were with him. To think of him with you."  
  
"Why." Louis demands, fighting the glazed over look in Harry's eyes.  
  
Harry pulls back very slightly, breathing heavily.  
  
"Why didn't _you_ invite him up? He wanted to sleep with you, probably date you too. Why didn't you let him?"  
  
Louis makes a pained noise in the back of his throat and tries to push him away. Harry takes hold of his face again, imploring him to answer with wide, soulful eyes.  
  
"Tell. Me."  
  
Louis swallows. This is a stalemate, an impasse. Someone has to be the one to break it.  
  
"Because I love you." He says and the deepest clarity fills his mind.  
  
This is it. This is his moment. Harry takes a deep, unsteady breath. His fingers dig into Louis' cheeks slightly.  
  
"I love you too,” He says. “Completely. It fills me up in ways I've never been filled before. I'm bursting at the seams Louis, all because of you. Because of who you are and how you live. I love you, Lou. God, it feels good to say it!"  
  
Louis' heart gives a feeble (gigantic) twitch. His heartbeat sounds loud in his ears. All his senses are heightened.  
  
"You ran from me," he says dejectedly, placing a hand over Harry's chest. "That was what that was tonight, right? With Blondie? You were afraid…"  
  
Harry takes hold of his hand and brings it to his lips. He places a kiss on the inside of Louis' wrist.  
  
"Yes. I'm so sorry. But nothing happened--I didn't leave with him. He wasn't right. He wasn't _you_ ," Harry implores, face desperate.  
  
Louis' expression softens slightly.  
  
"And McDreamy isn't you."  
  
Harry cusses quietly.  
  
"I wish you'd quit calling him that."  
  
Louis giggles.  
  
"I'm just winding you up, love."  
  
Harry kisses his way up the inside of Louis' arm, eliciting another precious giggle from his lips.  
  
"You're very good at that," he tells him. "The way you looked tonight...could barely keep my hands off you."  
  
Louis' smirk is sly. He slowly eases his t-shirt up over his torso and deposits it on the floor beside him.  
  
"And what about now?" He purposefully bites his lip, toeing at the floor. "Can you keep your hands off me now?"  
  
Harry breathes out through his nose.  
  
"No," he breathes out through his nose, "no I can't."  
  
He grabs hold of Louis' face with searing possessiveness, crushing their lips together the way Louis' always dreamed he would. He pushes Louis up against the nearest wall, lifting him up by the thighs. Louis happily wraps his legs around him, whimpering softly. Harry's plush tongue moves against his own like a dirty promise.  
  
"You taste--" Harry kisses him again, full bodied. "--so good."  
  
"I just brushed my teeth," Louis laughs.  
  
Harry sucks at a patch on his neck, rocking Louis against him.  
  
"It's not the toothpaste," his voice is run ragged. "It's _you_."  
  
Louis' smile curls against Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Kiss me again."  
  
Harry smiles and reattaches their mouths, massaging Louis' tongue with his own. It's incredibly sensual, the way Harry moves against him, grinding him into the wall as he circles Louis' tongue with his own. His hands don't stay still either. They wander down over Louis' chest and hips, squeezing him roughly, just the way he likes. They grab at his thighs, pulling him tighter against his body, making Louis see stars when their groins align perfectly in their movements.  
  
"Fuck," Harry swears, "I want to be with you. Properly."  
  
Louis shudders and grinds his hardening cock up into Harry's belly.  
  
"Yes. Please."  
  
Harry pulls back, still holding him. His eyes are heavy, his face hot.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Louis bites his lip.  
  
"Do you love me?"  
  
Harry kisses him again, slowly this time. With teasing traces of his tongue.  
  
"So much."  
  
Louis can't fight the crinkly smile opening up on his face and he wouldn't want to. He wants Harry to know how happy he makes him, how much he wants this.  
  
"Then I'm sure. Make love to me."  
  
"Going to," Harry lifts him up off the wall and starts carrying him in the direction of his room. "Going to make love to you so good."  
  
Louis pushes the door open for him and Harry lays him out on the bed. He straddles Louis' hips and looks down at him with quiet reverence in his eyes. He lightly traces his fingertips over Louis' nipples, lips quirking at the way Louis trembles beneath him, back arching provocatively. He leaves Louis' nipples for his stomach, spreading his palms across it and squeezing tenderly. He stares at his hands on Louis' skin, on his waist, seemingly in awe. Then he reaches Louis' pants and his whole face changes, breaking into a cheesy grin.  
  
"What?" Louis props himself up on his elbows.  
  
Harry kisses him sweetly and then pushes him back down.  
  
"Nothing," he shakes his head disbelievingly. "I just can't believe the first time I met you, this was all you were wearing. These silly little pants," he chuckles, "and now I get to take them off you."  
  
His voice goes low and gravelly towards the end, like he's seriously affected by the thought of undressing Louis.  
  
"I love you," Louis murmurs, flicking his eyelashes up at Harry. "I love the way you make me feel."  
  
Harry abandons his task and stretches his body taut over Louis'. His thumbs glide over Louis' jawline as he hungrily sucks Louis' bottom lip into his mouth.  
  
"When you look at me like that, it drives me crazy," Harry admits, eyes downcast.  
  
"Like what?"  
  
He slides down Louis’ body and hovers over his groin. He watches Louis' face closely as he peels his pants down, unhooking them from his ankles and chucking them aside.  
  
"Like I give you everything. Like it overwhelms you."  
  
Louis jerks his hips up impatiently, feeling exposed in the best way possible. He just wants Harry to look at him already, to touch him.  
  
"You do. It does."  
  
Harry hears the impatience in his tone and smirks, clearly unbothered. Instead of touching him, he gets up from the bed and removes his shirt, not looking at Louis at all. Louis' mouth is _dry, dry, dry_. He’s mesmerised by the way Harry's butterfly tattoo stretches taut across his abs whenever he moves. Harry pushes his jeans down until they pool at his ankles and then steps out of them. He hesitates for a moment and then tucks his thumbs inside his pants and pulls them down too.  
His cock is beautiful. It's a faint rose colour, hard and leaking where it curves down slightly to the right. Louis wants to get his mouth on it now.  
  
"Can I suck you? Please."  
  
Harry makes an aborted sound in the back of his throat and finally looks at him. His pupils are blown.  
  
"Fuck," he moans. "I love you."  
  
Louis' heart gives a great big kick.  
  
"Is that a yes?" His eyes drop to Harry's prick, hanging heavy and beautiful between his legs. "Want to feel you on my tongue."  
  
Harry shudders. He climbs onto the bed with Louis and straddles his body.  
  
"You want to suck me?"  
  
"Yes," Louis kneads at the flesh on Harry's hips, sucking his whole bottom lip into his mouth. "Want to make you feel the same things you make me feel."  
  
Harry's eyes are intense. He cages Louis in with his arms and settles his naked body over Louis'. Louis grinds his cock against Harry's, moaning wantonly. Harry pushes him back down into the mattress and kisses him silent.  
  
"How do I make you feel?" He pants, nuzzling a spot just beside Louis' ear, paying special attention to the way his breath falters and hitches in response.  
  
Louis buries his hands in the thick of Harry's hair. He pulls on it gently, loving the way Harry's body stirs against his.  
  
"Crazy." He closes his eyes, immersed in the experience. "You make me crazy."  
  
There's a bit of rustling, a soft exhalation of air and then some very slight pressure against Louis' lips. He runs his tongue across the weight of Harry’s cock and it comes away sticky. He tastes sweetness with just a hint of sour. He tastes Harry.

 

Harry moans.  
  
"Keep your eyes closed," He pleads. "You look--"  
  
He can't even finish the sentence, choking on the sentiment.  
  
"Ready?" He says a moment later.  
  
Louis can feel the heat from his body.  
  
"Ready."  
  
Harry pushes forward, edging his cock inside Louis' mouth and it feels like bliss. Inescapable bliss. And that's the thing, Louis can't escape from it. He has to take what Harry gives him. He has to trust him wholeheartedly. Thankfully, he does. He trusts Harry with his body but more than that, he trusts him with his heart.

  
Harry makes a series of indecipherable noises when Louis uses his tongue to draw patterns on the inside of his cock. He's sure it's sloppier than usual, not as precise as he would be if he had the use of his eyes but it's somehow better this way. More intense. When Harry's body shudders and tightens, Louis feels it. It spurs him on.  
  
Harry keeps sliding in, slow and suggestive, giving Louis just a hint of how big he is before pulling back out. It's driving him mad. He grips onto Harry's thighs, focusing all his attention on the head of Harry's cock. He digs his tongue into Harry's slit and massages the veiny part with his tongue. Harry's cock continues to bleat come, quietly revealing his desperation. Louis needs more.  
  
He opens his eyes for just a second, just long enough to connect them with Harry's. He opens his mouth around the head of Harry's cock and then sucks, lathing his tongue along the bottom in a kind of open mouthed kiss.  
  
"Baby." Harry's arms tense. He's sweaty at the temples, his whole body flushed and trembling. "You're perfect."  
  
It really shouldn't be this easy to make Louis melt. It's just... _baby_. No one's ever called him that before. At least, not like this. Louis' never been someone's baby. He's always been the one in control. The flirter, not the one to be flirted with. Whether he bottomed or topped, he's always been the strong, powerful one in bed. It's nice for once, to feel powerful without feeling like there's something to live up to. It's nice to hand over the control to someone who he trusts implicitly, who trusts him implicitly also.  


"Fuck my mouth."  
  
Harry's face seizes up. His hips stutter forward. He draws back immediately.  
  
"Lou, I'm so sorry--"  
  
"It's okay. I have no gag reflex."  
  
Harry rolls his eyes, cupping Louis' cheeks with his palms.  
  
"Yeah, okay."  
  
"No really." Louis emphasises. "Did I choke just now?"  
  
Harry's face freezes. It's kind of comical. Louis giggles. Harry's face turns soft for a moment. He runs his thumb over Louis' bottom lip, puffy and swollen from his searing kiss.  
  
"You can't giggle like that when you’ve just told me you’d like to swallow my cock."  
  
Louis bats his eyelashes at him.  
  
"Better shut me up then."  
  
And Harry does. He slides his cock back into the velvety heat of Louis' mouth, sighing softly as he does. Louis tightens his lips, blowing warm air up his length. Louis keeps his eyes open as Harry slides in deeper, hips stuttering desperately. Louis gurgles a little bit, a sheen of wetness covering his eyes. Harry watches him with rapt attention, choking on air when his cock hits the very back of Louis' throat. Louis blinks once, to let him know it's okay. Harry moans, wild and unrestrained, then grinds the head of his cock against the back of Louis' throat. It tickles slightly, makes his throat feel kind of itchy. There's a very dull ache there, one which might bother him later. But it's worth it. Worth it to see the way Harry is coming undone. He’s clearly concentrating very hard on just breathing in and out, steadying himself on the headboard and trying not to go too deep. It's beautiful, the way he loses it every time Louis swallows, groaning like he can't possibly take any more.  
  
It can't be more than sixty seconds before he pulls out, breathing shallowly.  
  
"Need to stop. Gonna come."  
  
Louis nods. He might fight him on that another time but tonight, he just wants to be fucked. Tonight he wants Harry to spill inside him.  
  
"Are you clean?" He asks him, trying not to let his own vulnerability show on his face.  
  
Harry leans down and kisses his forehead gently.  
  
"I haven't slept with anyone since my last check up."  
  
Louis bites his lip.  
  
"Which was when?"  
  
"Before you. The love of my life."  
  
Louis rolls his eyes, flushing right down to his roots.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous."  
  
Harry knits his fingers in Louis' hair.  
  
"I'm not. I know it's you. I know you're going to be the one I grow old with."  
  
Louis swallows hard.  
  
"I'm clean too," he says, to break the tension. "Want you to fuck me bare Harry."  
  
Harry croons, kissing him soundly. Without breaking the kiss, he reaches over into Louis' bedside table and grabs the lube.  
  
"How did you know that was in there?" Louis asks with a slightly bewildered expression.  
  
Harry's smile is sheepish.  
  
"Accidentally found it once when I was looking for your phone charger. Couldn't stop thinking about it for days."  
  
Louis' cock stirs with interest.  
  
"Really? Like what?"  
  
Harry slides down the bed, smile mischievous.  
  
"I'll show you."  
  
He opens Louis up on two of his long fingers. He uses his tongue too, licking him out thoroughly until Louis starts to squirm. Until he starts to beg.  
  
"Fuck me please, Harry--" Harry gives a hard suck to his rim, rubbing insistently at his prostate at the same time. Louis' eyes roll back and he momentarily loses the power of speech. "Ahh--Harry, babe please."  
  
Harry pulls his fingers out and wipes them against Louis' sheets. There's a secret smile playing around the edges of his lips.  
  
"What?" Louis' voice is slightly impatient.  
  
"You called me babe," Harry sings.  
  
"You called me baby," Louis counters, smiling softly.  
  
"That I did baby," Harry pets at his stomach, eyes tender. "Because you're mine. Aren't you?"  
  
"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?" Louis pretends to be unaffected, his mouth quivering with the effort of holding back. "Because that's pretty juvenile, Styles....even for you."  
  
Harry writes out the question on his torso, finishing the question mark on the far edge of his hip. He looks so starry eyed. Louis can't believe he's the reason for it.  
  
"Yes. I'll be your boyfriend. I'm yours already." Louis grabs at his arm. "Are you mine?"  
  
Harry smirks.  
  
"Let me show you."  
  
He picks Louis up by the thighs and scoots him backwards so he's leaning up against the headboard. Then he kneels between his legs.  
  
"Hang on a sec," he mutters and grabs a pillow from behind Louis' head.  
  
He places it under his hips and then hooks Louis' thighs over his own. His face lights up.  
  
"Much better."  
  
Louis feels open and exposed in this position. It's very intimate. They can both see everything, from the point where they're joined to each other's every flickering expression. That's what makes it perfect.  
  
Harry's cock breaches him slowly, expertly. Louis can see the overwhelming urge to pound into him flicker across Harry's face but he waits patiently until Louis gives him the okay to move. Louis' never had a dick as big as this and it suddenly occurs to him how very tight he is. Harry seems to agree if the look of pain/pleasure on his face is anything to go by. It takes them a few agonising minutes just to make it work, just for Harry to bottom out and Louis to stretch around him fully.  
  
"Jesus Lou," Harry kisses him wetly as he thrusts in a bit deeper. "You feel so tight. I can't--I don't know long I can hold on."  
  
Louis whimpers a bit, waiting for the thrust that's going to set his senses alight. It takes a bit longer than they both would like but eventually Harry finds the right angle. He delivers a spectacular thrust, hitting Louis' prostate dead on. Louis screams. His eyes cramp shut. His toes curl. He rocks himself up onto Harry's cock, trying to get more of that incredible sensation.  
  
"There?" Harry pants.  
  
"There." Louis whines. "More. Please."  
  
Harry wraps his arms around him and hauls him up into his lap. He kisses the side of Louis' neck as he lifts him up and down on his cock, bouncing him slightly. The head of his dick presses against Louis' prostate each time he drops Louis down again and it's so much. It’s not enough.  
  
"Touch me," he begs, panting harshly against Harry's ear. "Harry, make me come."  
  
Harry leaves another lingering kiss at the base of his neck.  
  
"Do it yourself," he hums. "I want to watch."  
  
He holds Louis tightly by the hips, leaning back so he can watch Louis' every move. It's hypnotising; the dilation of Harry pupils, the power of his thrusts, the rush of pleasure each time Harry's dick knocks against his prostate. Louis wraps a hand around himself, jerking himself to the beat of Harry's thrusts. Harry watches with apt attention, quivering each time Louis' ass muscles tighten and then contract around him. Louis rubs a thumb over his slit, whimpering.  
  
"You're so pretty," Harry bounces him determinedly. "Bet you're even prettier when you come. Come for me Lou. Want to see you lose yourself baby."  
  
Louis does. He lets out a wretched sob and comes in stripes across his and Harry's belly. Harry's whole body seizes with him, his eyes go wide.  
  
"Fuck," he groans, swivelling his hips. The aftershocks of Louis' orgasm cause his muscles to tense around Harry and Harry's eyes roll back into his head. "Fuck, fuck, Louuuuu."  
  
He comes then, his head tilted back and his throat muscles bulging. Louis feels it flood his insides, warm and wet.  
  
"You came in me," Louis says with wonder.  
  
"I came in you," Harry's smile is blissed out, his eyes slanted closed.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Harry's smile turns tender. He strokes the soft fleshy part of Louis' tummy with his thumb.  
  
"I love you too."  
  
They fall asleep wrapped around each other, still sticky with come. It's worth it. Even when they wake up to disturbing stains on the sheets and the smell of sex in the air, it still feels like a fairytale. It feels that way every time Harry looks at him, because now he knows Harry loves him. He knows that the only person he'll ever want to be with wants to be with him too.  
  
***

  
"Lou, I'm scared. What if he doesn't want to write music with me anymore?"  
  
Louis laughs at Harry's misfortune. The furrow between Harry’s brows only deepens.  
  
"Don't laugh at me. I'm serious."  
  
"Seriously pathetic."  
  
Louis grins at him. Harry continues to pout. Louis rolls his eyes and grabs him by his big strong jaw, pulling him in for a kiss.  
  
"You are _such_ a baby," he says against Harry's lips.  
  
"I love you too, babe."  
  
Louis giggles and then reaches down to cup Harry's dick through his jeans. He mewls.  
  
"You know if you don't completely screw this up, I might let you fuck me later."  
  
They both know he will either way.  
  
"Okay," Harry's eyes are sad but needy. "Okay, let's do it."  
  
Louis hides a grin and then tucks his hand into Harry's. They walk down the hall together and break hands just before they reach Liam's room.  
  
"After you, boyfriend," Harry whispers.  
  
Louis knows when someone is trying to sweet talk him. He quirks an eyebrow.  
  
"You're still doing the talking. Stop being sweet."  
  
Harry huffs a disbelieving laugh and raises his eyes to the heavens.  
  
" _Stop being sweet_ , he says. _Do all my dirty work for me_ , he tells me. What a lucky man I am."  
  
His tone is wry. Louis pinches his hip.  
  
"Damn straight Harry Styles and don't you ever forget it."  
  
Louis walks in then, glancing back over his shoulder to check that Harry's still with him. He is, looking all but terrified.  
  
Liam's reading a comic on his bed. He doesn't look up when they walk in or even when they sit down on his bean bags in the corner.  
  
"Hey dickhead."  
  
Harry gives him an incredulous look.  
  
"Great start," he hisses.  
  
Louis squeezes his thigh, pressing the edge of his pinky into Harry's cock. That shuts him up quick.  
  
"What do you want?" Liam says, monotone.  
  
"To talk to my loving brother about how much I love him. What else?"  
  
Harry rolls his eyes. Liam snaps the comic closed and throws it onto his desk.  
  
"Okay, how much do you need?"  
  
Louis glares at him.  
  
"I don't need money and if I did, I wouldn't come to you."  
  
"Then what is it?" Liam's eyes shift to Harry. "What's going on with you two? You've been over every day this week and you haven't come to see me once. What does my little brother have that I don't have?"  
  
"An ass that won’t quit.”  
  
Liam's mouth drops open and his eyes narrow.  
  
"Not funny, Styles."  
  
Louis slaps Harry's thigh.  
  
"Good god, my boyfriend is an idiot."  
  
...Which is only further proved by the ridiculous smile that spreads across Harry's face. The loveable idiot can't resist Louis calling him that any more than Louis can resist Harry telling him he loves him.  
  
"Your boyfriend?" Liam screws his face up. "You don't have a--"  
  
His face freezes. _Shit_. Louis looks to Harry for comfort but Harry looks as horrified as Louis feels.  
  
"Harry." Liam's tone is glacial.  
  
Harry's, in comparison, is little more than a tremble.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Are you dating my little brother?"  
  
Louis rolls his eyes, muttering angrily to himself, "I'm twenty one, for god sakes."  
  
Liam points a finger at him.  
  
"That's enough out of you."  
  
"Oh my god, stop. I'm not a bloody child." Louis places his hand back on Harry's thigh. Harry covers it with his immediately, interlocking their fingers. "And you're not my keeper."  
  
Liam turns back to Harry. He crosses his arms in an effort to appear more intimidating. Louis snorts.  
  
"So you _are_ dating him then?"  
  
Harry nods, gripping Louis' hand tight.  
  
"Do you love him?"  
  
Harry doesn't flinch. His voice doesn't shake. His eyes find Louis'.  
  
“Yes. More, every day."  
  
Liam sighs, obviously conflicted. Harry bites his lip.  
  
"Does this mean I can't work with the band anymore?"  
  
Liam taps his fingers against his bicep, contemplative.  
  
"If I said yes, would you leave my little brother alone?"  
  
Louis' breath hitches.  
  
"No." Harry turns to Louis, expression soft and leaden. " _No._ Baby, I'd never leave you."  
  
Louis smiles gently.  
  
"Ugh," Liam winces. "Do you have to call him that?"  
  
"Do you have to have sex with Zayn when I'm trying to study?" Louis snaps.  
  
Liam flushes a bit but stands his ground.  
  
"I think this is a terrible idea. Harry, if you break his heart...if you hurt him in any way, shape or form, I will destroy you."  
  
Harry giggles. Actually giggles. Loveable idiot. He leans into Louis' side.  
  
"I feel like Chandler when Ross tried to go all big bad brother on him because of Monica."  
  
Liam coughs, reminding Harry where he is. Harry startles, expression contrite.  
  
"I mean--"  
  
Liam waves his apology away.

  
"It's okay." He grins. "You're right. I’m shit at threats. And as for writing, I'm not done making sweet music with you yet."  
  
Louis leans in to whisper in Harry's ear, "neither am I. Want to hear you moan my name when you come inside me later."

Harry shudders.  
  
"So what was it Harry?" Liam interrupts. "Was it the pikachu pants or his obsession with destiny’s child?"  
  
Harry doesn't pay any mind to the mocking in Liam's tone. He grabs Louis' hand and kisses each of his fingertips.  
  
"It was everything." He doesn’t look at Liam and instead kisses Louis slowly, leisurely. "I love everything about you. My boy in the pikachu pants."  
  
Louis knows it then, when he looks into Harry's starry eyes. He can see the dreams inhabiting Harry’s soul. He knows it two years later when they get their first flat together; cramped and hideous but completely perfect for the two of them to begin their journey together. He knows it two years after that when Harry takes him to the planetarium for the evening, reserved just for the two of them. He knows it when he looks around at the rose petals layering the ground and when he hears Harry's voice overhead, singing soulfully. He's certain of it when Harry walks across the planetarium towards him, a guitar slung across his chest, tears in his eyes. He knows it when Harry drops to one knee at his feet and asks Louis to spend the rest of his life with him and then again, a year later when he vows to make Louis happy for all of his days. He knows it when he tells Harry he wants to adopt a baby and Harry's whole face just illuminates, like he's just been waiting for Louis to say exactly that. He knows it countless times over the course of their lives together but he never knows it more than when he's looking in Harry's eyes, inhabiting the universe they share together. If Louis’ the Boy in the Pikachu Pants, then Harry’s the boy who made him more than that. He’s the boy who gave Louis the whole universe and all the galaxies inside it.  


**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? x


End file.
